Addiction
by roryhuntzburger
Summary: Addiction can be deadly and the road it leads you down can be even deadlier. TRORY. Told from Louise's POV.
1. Analysis

**ADDICTION**

**Disclaimer – **Gilmore Girls don't belong to me. They belong to the people of CW and so forth. If I did own Gilmore Girls, Lorelai never would've slept with Chris, let alone married the guy and Rory and Logan wouldn't have broken up for good at the end of the season. Sorry, I'm still a little bitter by the whole ending.

**Summary - **Addiction and the road it leads you down. Trory. Told from Louise's POV.

_**WARNING: Extremely AU!!! A story about drug addiction. Contains Rory/Tristan, Louise/Logan.**_

**Author's Note - **First piece of fanfiction so be nice please. Constructive criticism is welcome.

**Necessary Background Information**_** - **_Chris and Lorelai got married when they had Rory, so Rory grew up in Hartford, next door to Louise, and thus they became best friends. Tristan & Steph are step-brother and sister. Paris & Logan are brother and sister. (Honor was not used as she did not fit appropriately for this story)

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**ADDICTION**

_Prologue - Analysis  
_

She stared straight ahead, her dull brown eyes distant, taking a long drag on a cigarette.

He cleared his throat and checked his files once again. Ah yes, Louise Grant. 19 years old. Drug addict turned runaway prostitute. Parents were paying him an insane amount of money per hour to get her head fixed.

Christopher Harrison cleared his throat, gently set the file down and fixed his glasses. "Miss Grant, I presume?" He said.

She snickered and took another drag, her eyes cold. "Great start, Doctor," she said bitterly as she stabbed her cancer stick into the ashtray.

"Tell me about yourself," he then said, leaning back into his chair awaiting her response. It was a proven fact, People loved to talk about themselves. Once you get them started, they couldn't stop.

Instead she ignored his request, and reached into her pockets to pull out another cigarette. Grabbing out her favorite lighter, she flicked it on, watching the yellow and blue flame dance briefly before lighting up the cigarette. She pocketed the lighter and brought the cigarette up to her lips, taking a long sweet puff, savoring the intoxicating smoke. Not as intoxicating as she might like, but since she was on drug watch … it would have to do.

She looked up to see the psychologist staring at her disapprovingly. "You know," he began, "Those things will kill you." She laughed slightly, and turned to stare the doctor straight in the face, her eyes practically dead.

"Yeah," She said finally. "That's the plan,"

The doctor studied the girl in front of him carefully through the glass of his spectacles. She was dressed in ratty torn black jeans and a red shirt that exposed her sickly stomach—thin with the months of drug use. He could make out vague slash marks on her wrists and could recognize a ton of track marks.

She was a head case.

In other words, she was a goldmine.

But, he needed to get her to talk.

Time to bring out the big guns.

He reached forward to the table and dug into the file. He pulled out a photograph her parents had given him when he had originally met with them to discuss her case. It was of a younger Louise Grant, and a small delightful brunette girl with a smile that could melt an entire city. The caption was written in small, shaky letters on the back of the photograph: "Rory and Louise, first day of school."

He put the picture in front of Louise, and leaned forwards, eagerly anticipating a reaction. Would she scream? Would she cry? Would she get angry?

Louise's sickly face visibly contorted for a split second, and she quickly turned towards the window, her cig shaking visciously. She took a long, deep, painful inhale and then turned towards the doctor once again, her grim brown eyes spitting hate and fire.

"So you want me to talk?" she said slowly, coldly. "Is that why you showed me that picture? Because you want me to _fucking_ talk?"

She leaned forward, her eyes glittering dangerously. "Let me tell you something, asshole," she hissed at him, her abuse of black eyeliner suddenly painfully obvious. "The next time you show me a picture of my dead best friend, I'll put out a cig in your eye, you got that?"

'Dr. Chris,' as he'd insisted on being called gulped and sank back into his chair. She really was crazy.

"I suppose you want me to tell you about my life?" Louise said, sitting back in her seat and propping her legs up. "I had a wonderful childhood, if that's what you're asking. Hartford, Connecticut. Hell … how can anyone live their entire life within a socialite rich crazed world and not go crazy?" She picked the photograph up from its place on the desk and stared at it.

"Rory was my best friend," she said finally, a little quieter this time, more vulnerable, softly stroking the captured image of the two young girls looking so happy. A very long time ago. How things had changed. "We were closer than close— She was the sister I never had. Ironically enough, I was the one that got her ..." her voice trailed off, unable to handle all the emotion.

She closed eyes trying to get a grip on things and turned back to stare at the 'Head Doctor' as her boyfriend, Logan had once called him. "So you want to know about me?" She asked again, not expecting an answer. "Fantastic. I'll tell you my story. But here's the deal— I talk, and you don't. When I'm done, only then can you start with your 'how does that make you feel?' shit. I'm only going to tell you that once," She narrowed her eyes at the idiot sitting before her. She didn't trust him. She didn't trust anybody.

She couldn't.

"There's only one thing you need to know," She said slowly, finishing her cigarette, stabbing it out, and then quickly lighting another one. "My name is Louise Grant, and everybody I've ever loved is dead."

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_**Review!!!!**_


	2. Just Talk

**ADDICTION**

**Disclaimer – **Gilmore Girls don't belong to me. If I did, Lorelai never would've slept with Chris, let alone married the guy and Rory and Logan would not be breaking up for good at the end of the season.**  
**

**Summary - **Addiction can be deadly and the road it leads you down can be even deadlier. Trory. Told from Louise's POV.

_**WARNING: Extremely AU!!! A story about drug addiction. Contains Rory/Tristan, Louise/Logan and brief mentions of Steph/Collin and Paris/Finn.**_

**Necessary Background Information**_** - **_Chris and Lorelai got married when they had Rory, so Rory grew up in Hartford, next door to Louise, and thus they became best friends. Tristan & Steph are step-brother and sister. Paris & Logan are brother and sister. (Honor and Madeline were not used as they did not fit appropriately for this story)

**Reviews _-_ _Thank you to: Meredith McDreamy, SmilesAreAllINeed, just hidden, escapedsoul, max.logan, skate4cancer, darcy007, corruptedchic, Tara, trorygirl, Curley-Q, nk-number1actress, londonluver, LoVe23, AceJournalist & starshine 34._**

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**ADDICTION**

_Chapter 1 - Just Talk_

Rory, the young brunette girl in the picture, was my best friend. We had lived next door together our whole lives, meet when we were just babies and were inseparable ever since. From kindergarten where we both openly mocked the glue eaters and the nose pickers, to the first day of 8th grade where she was a straight-A geek and I was … well … the eight-grade version of Shirley Temple.

Every single detail of my life, she knew. I held nothing back. Deep dark family secrets, secrets I was told to never expose to anyone. Even thoughts that passed through my mind that absolutely disgusted me.

Everything.

And it's so ironic … she was me. I was her. I could have ended up just like her.

See … she fell in love. So did I. Not to the same guy, of course. I had Logan. Logan was friends with her guy. And I introduced him to her.

Tristan DuGrey.

I'm getting ahead of myself.

I need to stop. I need to tell the story. If I don't tell the story, it won't make any sense. Not that a drug addict can make a lot of sense … but you know what I mean.

I hope.

Sophomore Year. We were both 16. I was the bubbly girl, she was the literature nerd. You know … life went on at a normal pace. She worried about school. I worried about the latest fashion and gossip. She worried about pleasing her grandparents. I worried about the occasional football game on Saturday.

Then … I fell in love.

Enter Logan Huntzburger.

I was naïve to think he wasn't a druggie. I mean, now … I look back and think "How could he not have been a druggie?" The signs were so there. I heard him reference it. I'd seen him come to Chilton completely smashed. There wasn't that much mystery to it.

I didn't want to fall in love with him. Believe me. I wish I could have been like the rest of brainless ditzes in my school and loved jockboy Kyle Johnson. I heard that he had been interested in me.

Anyway, one day out of the blue, Logan approached me at my locker at school and invited me to go to this party, and I was_ dying_ to go. I knew the crowd Logan hung around with, and I didn't care. Logan Huntzburger wanted me to go to a party. That's all that was important.

When it comes to going on dates, I require 4 things. 1) Killer hair. 2) Killer makeup. 3) Killer outfit, and finally, 4) my best friend as close as possible without it being a ménage trois.

So, after I had gotten my hair, makeup and outfit planned, I phoned Rory, begging her to go with me to this party.

"NO!"

"But Rory—" I protested, desperate to persuade her.

"LOUISE! Do you have any idea what kind of people are going to be at this party?"

Truthfully, I had no idea. "Yes! Logan's friends."

"That's right! Druggies."

"They aren't druggies—" And that I truly did believe.

Rory just groaned. "Louise! Wake up! They're druggies."

I bit my lip even, feeling even more desperate to get my girl to come with me. "Rory, don't you think you're being a tad judgmental. I mean … they could just be misunder—"

Rory shrieked indignantly over the phone, causing myself to cringe. "MISUNDERSTOOD? These kids are so strung out they can barely talk half the time and you're telling me they're misunderstood?"

"No, my point is, that we don't know if they're druggies or not. So just go. That way, you can see if they're druggies, then have actual facts to base your opinion on,"

She was quiet for a few seconds. "You suck, you know that?"

I grinned stupidly. I knew I had won. "I love you! Pick me up at 8!"

She muttered a few choice words along with her confirmation.

She picked me up at 8:32. She was always late.

"You look amazing!" I squealed, as I slid into the passenger side of her mother's Jeep. I don't remember what she was wearing now. I think it was a simple halter with a pair of dark blue low-riders.

"So do you," she said, with much less enthusiasm.

"Thank you so much for going with me," I told her. "It really means a lot to me,"

She flicked her wrist and told me it was nothing. But I could tell she was nervous.

Looking back now, I wonder why. Was it because she was going to a party with lots of druggies? Or maybe, did she sense what was going to happen to her. That by going to this party, she would suddenly be sucked into a world she didn't want to be in.

The said party was going to be held at this hip restaurant. Finn Morgan's dad owned it, and since he was going out of town, Finn found this to be the perfect opportunity to throw a party. Finn was a good friend of Logan's. He dated Paris, Logan's sister for a while, and continued to sleep with her occasionally. I, of course, didn't know that at the time.

Rory gracefully parked the car, and I found myself practically gliding with anticipation to the front door.

I was such a moron.

The music was too loud and the lights were too dim. I got used to it, after a while, but that was the first thing I noticed. And, as embarrassing as this is, my first thought was 'How do I find Logan?'

Rory just wrinkled her nose in disgust and pulled me the rest of the way inside. "You wanted to come, we're here, so I'd better enjoy myself."

"Where's Logan?" I asked her. She gave me a glare I chose to ignore at that moment, and continued to pull me into a secluded corner.

"I can barely hear myself think!" Rory was saying loudly. "This annoying music is too damn loud!"

Then, I saw him. "Louise!" he called, beckoning me.

Logan.

Standing gorgeous, blonde hair, inviting brown eyes, grinning at me.

I grabbed Rory's hand and pulled both of us over to him. "Hi Logan!" I said, so excited.

What is it about drugs that kill all excitement? I don't get excited anymore. I just get cynical.

He grabbed my other free hand and pulled me into a room on the side. Rory followed. There inside, I saw the rest of his group: Finn, Paris, Steph and Tristan all sitting on some red velvet couches, a small coffee table in front of them decorated with booze, glasses, dead cigarettes and more.

It seems so surreal now. He just pulled me into the room, and there they all were. I had no way of knowing that they'd be all I'd have later on. They were just Logan's friends.

Finn was the loud musician, typical Aussie guy. Surprisingly he didn't drink a lot, just normally smoked a lot of grass. That's all you can really say about him. Like I said before, his dad owned the restaurant and many others around the globe. "Hey Logan, guys," he said, smiling at Rory and I.

Paris was Logan's sister, and was pretty enough. You know the type. Long blond hair, big brown eyes, pretty. She was a total bitch though. The second we walked into the room, she was already scowling. "What are they doing here?" She snapped at Logan, taking another drag of a cig and then swallowing some sort of hard liquor. She didn't like grass. It made her too happy. She preferred something that just made her look tough.

Steph rolled her eyes at Paris, and took a sip of what look liked a screwdriver. Steph was basically cool. Medium length blonde hair and silvery blue eyes. She was Tristan's step-sister. "Want a drink?" She asked, as nicely as possible. She was a little buzzed, but nothing too bad. After all, it was only 9:00 at night.

Tristan said nothing at all, leaning back into the couch and just stared Rory up and down as if captivated by her mere presence. He was one hundred percent sober, which was extremely rare for him.

See, I need to tell you about Tristan for you to understand why his story is so beautiful. Tristan hated the world, and the world hated Tristan. Steph was his step-sister, but I don't even know how much she knew him.

William DuGrey, his own father, abused the crap out of him, mainly verbally but on the odd occasion physically too, and because of it, it made him hard. It drove him to the streets; it drove him to take whatever he could find. I couldn't even tell you how many times he almost OD'd when I knew him.

I mean, the guy was one hundred percent trouble. He was tall, well built and intimidating. He had those dark azure piercing eyes. Like that they could see right through you and figure out who you were instantly. The scruffy, blonde unkempt hair. I looked at him, and I immediately cringed.

Rory looked at him, she fell in love.

Don't look at me like that. I know, I've used the word love too often in the last fifteen minutes, but you don't know what it's like. You sit there and think, "Teenagers aren't capable of falling in love," just because you never did. But I fell in love. And Rory fell in love. I know that for a fact.

Because you see, Dr. Chris or whoever the hell you are, Rory's love destroyed her. Rory's love for Tristan, Rory's love for me, Rory's love of life…it all contributed.

Just…stop looking at me. Look down in your notebook, and take the notes. I'll just keep talking.

I'll just keep talking.

---

**_Review!!!_**


	3. Soaring

**ADDICTION**

**Disclaimer – **Gilmore Girls don't belong to me. If I did, Lorelai never would've slept with Chris, let alone married the guy and Rory and Logan would not be breaking up for good at the end of the season.

**Summary - **Addiction can be deadly and the road it leads you down can be even deadlier. Trory. Told from Louise's POV.

_**WARNING: Extremely AU!!! A story about drug addiction. Contains Rory/Tristan, Louise/Logan and brief mentions of Steph/Collin and Paris/Finn.**_

**Necessary Background Information**_** - **_Chris and Lorelai got married when they had Rory, so Rory grew up in Hartford, next door to Louise, and thus they became best friends. Tristan & Steph are step-brother and sister. Paris & Logan are brother and sister. (Honor and Madeline were not used as they did not fit appropriately for this story)

**Reviews **_**-**__**Thank you to: jaimee:D, photobooth romance, LoVe23, nk-number1actress, just hidden, Curley-Q, Xla la lover X, Princess Mel (x2), anonymous, trorygirl, kisk, Meredith McDreamy.**_

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**ADDICTION**

_Chapter 2 - Soaring_

I'll just keep talking.

Paris had a thing for Tristan. It was so obvious.

What was even more obvious was that he couldn't have cared less about her.

Maybe he did. Maybe he thought of her as family or something, but hell, let's face it. Tristan's father beat him, and he ignored Steph, his step-sister. Family didn't figure in too highly on Tristan's priority list.

Logan told me later, that when Rory walked into the room, Tristan couldn't take his eyes off her.

Then he told me that Paris noticed.

And it was born. Pure rancor between Rory and Paris. From that moment on, they hated each other.

Rory accepted a rum and coke and sipped on it, not taking her eyes off Tristan. There was some heavy vibes going on in there, and I wouldn't have been all that surprised if Tristan got up out of his chair, picked up Rory, and started to do unspeakable acts to her right there. If looks could talk, his would be screaming "I want your body,"

Steph obviously noticed too. She slouched into the cushions of the couch and smirked. "Damn boy," she said, trying not to smile. "Why don't you just fuck her and get it over with?"

Tristan broke his gazing at Rory to give his step-sister a dangerous look. Steph just continued on smirking. She wasn't afraid.

Paris, eyes glittering brightly, quite possibly looked even more dangerous.

"Shut the fuck up, Steph," She hissed, taking another drag on the cig. "Like Tristan would even want to touch, that," she glared pointedly in Rory's direction. Rory just smiled, and leaned back into the adjacent couch, stretching out causing her halter top to ride up revealing smooth pale white skin, happily noting Tristan's reaction.

Finn, who was extremely high, seemed to forget how dangerous his ex-girlfriend was. "Judging by the reaction Tristan's having, I think it's a very real possibility,"

Steph giggled and poured herself another drink.

"Shut up, Steph!" Paris snapped, clearly pissed.

I just stared at Rory, amazed. I remember being so scared. I was looking at Rory, and she totally fit in. She was cool, she was precise, she was sexy. And most importantly, she wasn't being fake.

That terrified me.

I sat down next to her and took a sip of her drink, then tried to hold back the impulse to spit it out again. Rum. Yuck.

"I want to dance," Rory said, turning to me and standing up. Logan took the opportunity to slide into her seat, sliding up next to me.

"I'll go," Tristan said, his tone careless, his lips smirking as he hoisted himself up lazily out of his seat.

Paris became increasingly alarmed. "You don't dance," she said, sitting up straighter, and glaring at him.

He just shrugged back. "Do now,"

Paris narrowed her eyes and leaned back in her chair, but not before plucking Finn's joint out of his lips and inhaling it sharply.

"There's plenty for everyone, babe," he said, laughing as he took it back from her. He dug one out of his pocket and tossed it at Logan. "Share with your woman," he smirked.

My eyes widened. Innocent Louise.

"I actually want to dance," I said, turning to Logan a little too quickly. He nodded, before taking my hand in his and then led me outside.

The too loud music actually had a great beat to it, that seemed to pulsate throughout my body, so I was in heaven.

Then, I saw Tristan and Rory.

It was intense. That's all I can even say. Tristan and Rory were grinding away, hot, fast, and sexual, and all the onlookers could do was stare at them with their mouths hanging wide open.

It was…I couldn't even begin to describe it. They were fully clothed, and their hands weren't even that touchy, but it was one step short of a porno.

It was those vibes. They left everyone in the room breathless. They touched each other in all the right places that led people to believe they had been going together since the day they were born.

I looked away immediately, embarrassed to see my best friend in such an erotic situation.

Now I think back, and they were so beautiful. They had each other. They were finally complete. They knew that, too. That was the reason that night was probably the best night of her life. Underneath those raging hormones were instant feelings.

Rory turned to face him and he immediately began to play with the exposed skin on her lower back.

Logan gave a low whistle, and I turned to look at him, my eyes still wide as saucers with the shock.

Steph tapped us on the shoulder. "Hey," she said, looking around. "What's going—" her eyes widened and mouth dropped open as she caught her step brother getting it on with some girl he just met. "Whoa."

"I need a drink," Logan and I both said at the same time, and with that, we turned to re-enter the room. Steph was a step behind us.

"Yo, Finn, Par," she said, laughing as we re-entered the room. "You have GOT to check this out. Tristan and that girl are getting it ON!"

Paris's eyes darkened. She didn't say a word, just simply stood up and walked out of the room, Finn following her.

Steph smiled and grabbed my hand. "Come on," she said, smiling. "I want to see her reaction!"

I allowed myself to be led back into the room where Rory Hayden, my best friend was murdering any innocence she had second by second, and beheld what hereafter will be referred to as "pissed off Paris,"

Sure, the words are misleading. She's just pissed off? Ha! Nothing to worry about.

Go ahead … bask in your ignorance.

I nervously could tell she was three seconds away from digging her perfectly manicured sharp nails into Rory's eyes.

"Yeah, baby!" Finn screamed, throwing his arm around Steph as they giggled hysterically.

I grabbed Steph's arm and frantically whispered my concern over Paris's lethalness. "We've got to get the attention off them, before Paris feels overly dissed and attacks!" I finished. Steph's blue eyes widened as she realized the truth of my statement, then all of a sudden, an idea occurred to her.

"I know!" She squealed excitedly, then disappeared into the center of the room and climbed on a table.

"Oh, HELL YEAH!" Finn yelled, still laughing. I stood with my mouth agape as I stared at Steph as she started to dance on a table.

It worked like a charm. All the attention immediately flew off Tristan and Rory and landed on Steph. More importantly, the crowd flocked towards the middle of the room, cutting off Tristan and Rory's visibility to Paris and hindering her path towards them.

I sighed, and turned to Logan, who was in the process of getting high.

"Give me that," I said, defeated, as I grabbed it from him and took a deep breath.

Soon, I was soaring.

---

**_Review!!!_**


	4. Inseparable

**ADDICTION**

**Disclaimer – **Gilmore Girls don't belong to me. If I did, Lorelai never would've slept with Chris, let alone married the guy and Rory and Logan wouldn't have broken up for good at the end of the season.

**Summary - **Addiction can be deadly and the road it leads you down can be even deadlier. Trory. Told from Louise's POV.

_**WARNING: Extremely AU!!! A story about drug addiction. Contains Rory/Tristan, Louise/Logan and brief mentions of Steph/Collin and Paris/Finn.**_

**Necessary Background Information**_** - **_Chris and Lorelai got married when they had Rory, so Rory grew up in Hartford, next door to Louise, and thus they became best friends. Tristan & Steph are step-brother and sister. Paris & Logan are brother and sister. (Honor and Madeline were not used as they did not fit appropriately for this story)

**Reviews – Thank you to: **_**just hidden, nk-number1actress, skate4cancer, darcy007, Jaydee, jmulafferty23, Curley-Q, kisk, enviedxl0ve, Princess Mel, starshine 34 (x2), k00laide, trorygirl, Gilmoregirl7878, darkvixen06, londonluver, Meredith McDreamy, corruptedchic (x2), bubz22 & :D.**_

_---_

**ADDICTION**

_Chapter 3 – Inseparable _

After the alcohol and the grass wore off, I was sitting in Tristan's apartment. It was a hellhole. He and Steph had rented it without his father and her mother's knowledge, both to escape the verbal lashings and for Tristan, the beatings. But since the lack of credit cards were used and only cash, the options of renting something decent dwindled considerably.

I was curled up next to Logan, enjoying the feelings of just being near him. Steph was lying on the carpeted floor, clearly out of it, and Finn was sitting crossed legged, strumming absently on a guitar. Paris was doing something to the kitchen, and Tristan and Rory were nowhere to be found.

"Logan?" I asked him slightly groggy, shaking him a little bit. "Where are Tristan and Rory?"

He laughed a little bit and pointed to a heap on the floor I must have missed.

Tristan and Rory. Seriously high. And seriously making out.

Rory broke the passionate kiss for a second to straddle him and then resumed the kiss. He hungrily devoured her, his hands sliding up her back against her skin, under her halter. She looped her arms around his neck, playing with the ends of his hair before pressing her whole body as close to him as possible.

She moaned lustfully against his lips, quite loudly, drawing an evil glare from Paris. "Would you two keep it down?" She snapped.

Tristan just lifted Rory up easily and began to carry her into what I could only assume was the bedroom, never once breaking the passionate kiss, and almost stepping on poor Steph who was now counting the dots in the ceiling.

The door slammed shut behind them.

That's the main thing I remember, the door slamming shut. The apartment was so small it made the couch shake. And Paris got so pissed she threw something across the room. Don't ask me what it was though. I can't remember.

"Who the hell invited that bitch to the party anyways?" Paris raved furiously as banged around the kitchen. "I can't believe Tristan fell for a girl like that!"

"Paris, shut the fuck up," Steph said, mimicking Paris's earlier sentiments. Finn stopped strumming his guitar and burst out laughing, which made Steph only giggle harder her loose curls shaking with her body.

"Steph," Logan warned half-heartedly, knowing his sister was probably hurting that Tristan wasn't with her instead.

"Look," Steph started, sitting up to look at Paris. "Tristan's my step-brother. I've known him a lot longer than you. And as much as I hate to admit it, he's a bastard. He's cold. He's heartless," her expression grew serious as she tucked a few strands of her hair behind her ears. "Maybe, if he finds someone, he'll soften up a little bit,"

Paris let out a harsh laugh. "Please!" She said, rolling her eyes and pouring a drink. "Do you honestly think this will last? It's hormones. Pure and simple,"

Finn rolled his eyes and sat up to look at Paris directly. "Paris, I love you, dollface, but if you want Tristan, just tell him you want to jump his bones. I'm sure he'll oblige,"

"I feel vibes," Steph announced, pulling herself up and walking to the kitchen to check out the refrigerator. "Large vibes. More than sexual," Her eyes searched, then shrugging with her decision, she pulled out a beer and twisted it open.

Her words obviously hit home with Paris, whose eyes softened to almost vulnerable. "You think?" She asked softly, before hardening her exterior once again. I don't think anyone else heard her.

I did though.

A large uninhibited desperate moan came from the bedroom.

I just stared at the door with my eyes wide. I didn't know who the hell I was anymore. My best friend, who, on several occasions, had told me she would only sleep with a guy after she fell in love with him, was now in the back room screwing a guy she had only met 5 hours ago. Beyond that fact, I had just gotten high with a guy I barely knew. ME!

And that saddest part of all? I was enjoying the hell out of it.

With the exception of Paris, I really clicked with everyone there. It's like, they understood me. It may have been drug induced, but all I know is, they were like family to me.

Rory emerged from the room an hour later, wearing nothing but a tank top and underwear, grabbed a couple of beers from the refrigerator, and disappeared behind the closed doors once again.

I checked my watch. It was getting close to 4am. We were supposed to be home two hours ago. I turned to Logan who was half asleep. "Hey, I gotta go."

Logan just smiled sleepily– God, how I miss him.

Sorry.

He pulled me close, brushing a light kiss against my lips. "Okay." He had whispered before nodding off fully.

Happy. I was just so happy in that moment. Sometimes I wish I could feel just pure happiness again. Not drug induced. Not chemical. Just plain happy.

I reluctantly removed myself from his embrace, standing up and walking over to the bedroom. Everyone else was passed out or sleeping. "Rory!" I called to her, tapping on the door. "We gotta get home!"

I heard muttered whispers on the other side, and then the distinct sound of kissing. "I'm serious!!" I called to her, tapping it again.

Three seconds later, Rory opened the door, fully dressed, a trailing Tristan behind her in jeans and no shirt. Both of their hair was tousled. She tried to make her way to the front door, but he grabbed her by the waist, spun her around, and pinned her to the door, then kissed her hard.

"Call me," he finally whispered, breaking himself apart from her. She just smiled smugly at him.

"Bye guys!" She said, her eyes not leaving Tristan's not even noticing nobody else was awake. Then, grabbing my hand, she pulled me to the door.

The car had been parked at a weird angle, which left me wondering … did I do that?

Rory tossed me the keys and I slid into the driver's seat. She plopped down in the passenger side seat and squealed really loudly.

"Oh my GOD!" She practically screamed. "That was, hands down, the BEST night of my life,"

I tried not to smile too giddily as I pounded her for details. "What happened? I mean, who the hell ARE YOU? You and Tristan?" I stared at her, grinning expectantly. "Details already!"

She laughed and stretched. "Louise, I don't even know where to start! My brain, is like, buzzing a billion times a second. And I miss him already. How pathetic is that?"

"Rory!" I squealed, almost missing the turn. "You have got to tell me what happened!"

And she just turned to look at me, with this huge smile on her face. I think I'll remember that smile until they day I die. She clasped her hands under chin and just grinned.

"Babe," she told me. "I'm way too wired up to even talk about it. Tomorrow? Okay?"

That was something new. Rory ALWAYS told me what happened. In excruciating, mind numbing detail. Now, all of a sudden, she wasn't talking?

I realized we were at my house, and I got out of the car, watching her as she climbed into the driver seat. She gave me a final grin, and then turned the car out of the driveway.

---

I didn't see her until next day at school. She didn't show up for the first period, but I hunted her down, and finally cornered her in the bathroom early second period.

"Okay, you've blown me off for too long!" I cried in desperation. I needed details that very second or I wouldn't have been able to function clearly.

She just gave a dreamy smile and hopped onto the counter.

"It was … intense," she said, leaning against the mirror and staring up into the ceiling as if she was staring at heaven itself. "I mean, the second I saw him, something inside of me just … clicked, I guess. And I mean, he was totally feeling it too! He's got that whole wounded, bad boy image, and the way he kisses me …" She trailed off in this subdued way and got very quiet … too quiet … very un-Rory. "I think … I think I'm in love," she looked straight at me, her bright blue eyes wild with excitement. "That's why I went all the way. It just seemed right."

I tried not to be too skeptical. "And you weren't high when all this was taking place?"

She laughed slightly. "Only a little," she admitted. "He … okay … this is going to sound really strange … but it's like … I was high off him. I was high off the way he touched me, the way he made my stomach leap …" She trailed off again. "He seemed so tough … when we were dancing at the party. He seemed so tough. And then, when we were … well … together … he was so gentle. It's like, in a way he never thought he could be." She got this pensive look in her bright blue eyes. Her voice dropped to a whisper and I leaned forward trying to die from anticipation and sheer giddiness from her tale. "He told me for the first time in his life he didn't feel like a nobody, that he was worth something … and then he just kissed me. And it was so sweet."

I stared at Rory completely dumbfounded as we both stared at each other trying not to let out massive girly squeals. I remember being so happy and giddy for her then. So glad. How was I supposed to know what it would all lead to?

A bathroom stall door swung open behind me, shattering the moment and both Rory and I jumped. There stood a pissed off looking Paris.

Rory's smile dimmed slightly and she pushed herself off the counter back onto the ground.

Paris was only slightly taller than Rory but used her height to throw her weight. However, Rory was pretty quick. The fight was going to be pretty close to call.

"I wouldn't get too excited," Paris said, cattily. "He does it with lots of girls. You can't honestly think that you were his first, or anything."

Rory didn't respond, just smiled slightly. "You're in love with him." She said. I think she might have meant it as a rhetorical question, but it was a definite statement. Even Paris couldn't deny it.

Paris stared her up and down. I was a little shocked at Rory's motif for the day myself. Her plaid skirt was hiked up high above her knees, while her Chilton shirt seemed to have shrunk about 2 sizes and now pulled tightly across her chest.

"I've known him forever," She finally said. "Don't think that if he had to choose between the two of us, he'd choose me,"

Rory smirked. Something that threw me a little. Rory grinned, she smiled, she didn't smirk. "There isn't a contest," She said matter of factly. "I'll give him the out option. Today, actually. I hear he's actually in school today. If he wants to go to you. He'll go to you. If not … you'll finally know and will, hopefully, be able to move along with your pathetic existence."

Paris narrowed her eyes dangerously as Rory grabbed my hand and brushed right past her, slamming the door on the way out.

I laughed. It was exhilarating, seeing Paris put in her place like that. Couldn't say the bitch didn't deserve it.

Rory and I attended class until lunch, where we found Logan, Steph, Tristan, Paris and Finn all sitting by a tree in the courtyard.

"There they are!" I whispered, jerking my head in the direction that they were. Rory caught my brown eyes nervously.

"How do I look?" We both said at the same time, and then burst out laughing.

"Louise, what am I going to do?" Rory said suddenly overcome with nervousness. "I can't give her the satisfaction of walking over there!" Her bright blue eyes got the insecure look in them, that I knew so well, and she started babbling. "I'll look totally pathetic!"

I smiled at her and pulled her over to them.

"Hi Logan!" I said smiling, releasing her arm, making it seem like I had pulled her over there with me.

Logan smiled up at me and pulled me down to sit next to him. I eagerly succumbed to his arm wrapping around my waist. Tristan was checking out Rory again.

"Hey baby," he said, reaching up to grab her waist and pulled her down with him. Paris's grip on her diet coke tightened.

"Hey," She replied as he started to run his hand up the back of her shirt. "Oh yeah," she said, going in for the kill. "I just wanted to let you know that if you want to ditch me and hook up with Paris, let me know."

Steph let out a small gasp and immediately clamped her hand over her mouth, her eyes wide. Finn paled a little, and Logan sent a worried glance in the direction of his sister. She hadn't attacked Rory yet. Good sign.

Paris's complexion grew a little redder.

Tristan took no notice of all this as he dashed hot kisses up the side of her neck. "Yeah right," he smirked. "Has hell frozen over yet?"

Rory grinned with victory and watched with joyous contentment as Paris mumbled an excuse and promptly left.

All was right in my world once again.

Everyone else sat in an awed silence.

It was pretty much established right then-- the unbreakable law. Rory was Tristan's girl. He had embarrassed Paris, and he was now kissing his way to Rory's lips.

Honestly, I can't remember, after that, a time when anyone doubted them. They were Tristan and Rory. They were inseparable in that hot, passionate way of theirs.

Inseparable.

---

_**Review !!!**_


	5. Changes & Routines

**ADDICTION**

**Disclaimer – **Gilmore Girls don't belong to me. If I did, Lorelai never would've slept with Chris, let alone married the guy and Rory and Logan wouldn't have broken up for good at the end of the season. But if this Gilmore Girls Telemovie comes to pass, depending on how it goes I may forgive the shows creators for leaving it in the hands of David Rosenthal which ruined it all.

**Summary - **Addiction can be deadly and the road it leads you down can be even deadlier. Trory. Told from Louise's POV.

_**WARNING: Extremely AU!!! A story about drug addiction. Contains Rory/Tristan, Louise/Logan and brief mentions of Steph/Collin and Paris/Finn.**_

**Necessary Background Information**_** - **_Chris and Lorelai got married when they had Rory, so Rory grew up in Hartford, next door to Louise, and thus they became best friends. Tristan & Steph are step-brother and sister. Paris & Logan are brother and sister. (Honor and Madeline were not used as they did not fit appropriately for this story)

**Reviews – Thank you to: _trorygirl, just hidden, photobooth romance, skate4cancer, nk-number1actress, Curley-Q, Beautiful Deceit, Nicole Kathrine, ggfan01, LoVe23, Alison, JustLikeAGilmore, enviedxl0ve, max.logan, Princess Mel, veronicalogan, bubz22, darcy007, Meredith McDreamy, darkvixen06, corruptedchic, jmulafferty23_****_, starshine34 & :D._**

---

**ADDICTION**

_Chapter 4 – Changes and Routines_

For the following months, things started changing. I don't exactly know how they changed, but they did. It's just one of those things … One day my life was normal and boring…the next … it was free.

I started wearing eye-liner. In massive amounts. I kind of liked the way it made my eyes look all smoky and dark. I didn't look so plain.

Even now, after rehab and therapy, I can't seem to break the habit. There's something oddly comforting about the look of black eyeliner. You control it, you have to apply it. If you smudge it up, it's your own damn fault, but you can still fix it. It makes your eyes appear older then they are which is a good thing.

Let's face it, I may be 19, but I'm so much older in so many ways.

Rory changed too. Don't get me wrong, she had already started to change the minute she walked into that room and first laid eyes on Tristan. But it was more than that. She didn't abuse eyeliner like Steph and I did, but she changed. Her wardrobe went from warm and timid to sleek, sophisticated, and dark. She was starting to pull away from me, but I was so wrapped up in my own love life with Logan that I barely even noticed. She started skipping out on her school work and her usual reading pleasures. She kept more to herself and we stopped having our marathon phone conversations. She was defensive and slightly colder. I don't know if it was the drugs or Tristan.

Oh yeah … I guess this would probably be a good time to mention that I started with what I like to call "experimentation." Rory and I both, actually. Nothing too major at first, you know just a little weed, a few pills here and there, and inhalants. Just stuff to send you off. We were in Hartford. It's not like we could get any hardcore stuff.

Drugs were the glue of my existence. No, I take that back; Logan and drugs were the glue of my existence. I really didn't notice how awful my life had been until I started. Why bother with school when you could just melt it away with one quick drag?

My days all melded together in one beautiful blend of color. I'd spend my day at school with my friends, skipping half the time, then we'd all drive over to Tristan and Steph's apartment that afternoon. We didn't get high all the time. Sometimes, we just got drunk.

Rory and Tristan were quite busy. That was apparent. He couldn't walk around without his shirt on anymore, without someone making a joke about the obvious scratch marks on his back. Any guy even looked at Rory in school, he'd threaten to kill them and slam them against the locker. He worshipped her, adored her, loved her. And that made her his. And everyone in school knew it.

It sounds so pathetic, but we were a family. My other family just wanted me to be this perfect girl, but these guys … they accepted me as I was. I think it was the same for Rory. We didn't have to get perfect grades and be perfect little socialites to hang out with them. We just had to be ourselves. I just had to be me. I had to be Louise.

I tried explaining that to my mother (you know, before she sent me to therapy) and she just looked at me with these sad eyes. "Honey," she told me. "This isn't who you are! How can you even think that?" I just rolled my eyes at her, of course. What the hell does she know? Just because she gave birth to me doesn't mean she all of a sudden knows me. I mean for christ's sake for the first 5 years of my life I thought the maid was my mother.

But my friends … they cared for me. They gave me the drugs that made me feel important. And don't you dare say there was no connection there. There was. And it was magical.

"I love you guys!" Finn panted his back on the floor, his forehead covered in sweat.

Steph let out a long exhale, her face relaxed into a look of pure rapture. "Hell yes!" she hissed out, taking another drag then leaning back to rest her head on Finn's stomach.

Paris was staring at the curtains fluttering in the fan as if they were the most beautiful creations on earth, floating back and forth, like tie-dyed angels. There were tears in her golden brown eyes, I'm positive. She claimed, later, that it was the smoke. But I think she saw something.

Logan was running his hands through my blonde hair, relishing its softness. I was caught up in the softness of his hands running through my hair, and watching the beauty that was Tristan and Rory, slowly discovering each other's skin, each other's heart, each other's soul piece by piece.

All of us, united. It was a wonderful thing. Sure, it was never as good as the first time, but I kept thinking "you know, if I try this and this … " Still, it made me feel good. My life had taken off.

My friends took over my life.

Steph breathed in a long, exalted breath of the thick grey air and started to play with her own curly hair. "This is fantastic," she purred softly, her eyes fluttering shut.

There's always one drawback to drugs, you have to come off of it eventually.

But when we sobered up, at least we were always there. All seven of us.

Every Friday we'd go to a party. It was our tradition. Tristan and Rory would grind away, wrapped up solely in each other. Logan and I honestly weren't any better, as we would sit in a corner and make out, stopping only for air and the occasional beverage or joint. Paris would get totally cocked and start making out with random guys. Steph, the gorgeous girl that she was would get so incredibly loaded she allowed people to pay her for lap dances; and Finn would kind of sit in the middle of it all, and just smile this huge, drug induced smile.

It was at one of these parties that we stumbled on what we would soon call the downfall of our existence.

It was at one of these parties where we discovered our savior.

Crack cocaine. It's a beautiful thing.

I remember it so vividly. God, it makes my entire body shake with want it just thinking about it.

Steph looked so pretty. Short denim mini skirt and a barely there tank top, with her curly, silky blonde hair piled on top of her head. Not the ideal outfit for a table dance, but she had been seen in worst.

So there she was, on a table dancing her heart out, shaking everything she had been born with as if someone was going to take it all away from her. She succeeded in becoming the music, her body pulsating with the beat.

You know when everything just slows down and goes into slow motion? That's what happened. I might have been high, but still.

At the same time all this happened, a man was watching her.

You'd call him a boy, but he wasn't. He was a man.

His name was Colin McCrae.

Rory's cousin.

Good ol' Colin, who previously I deemed a juvenile delinquent unfit for society, was now my fellow lost soul, and was looking incredibly fine in his black leather jacket and his pierced eyebrow.

"Grant?" He screeched at me, tearing his eyes away from Steph for an instant. "You and Rory are here?"

I nodded at him and took another drag. Bliss. Pure bliss.

He surveyed the new me with a sexy grin, his eyes traveling up and down by body. "I like," he replied honestly. "It works for you," I smiled slightly.

"You like my friend Steph?" I asked coolly, tearing my eyes away from his to jerk my chin in her direction.

His chocolate brown eyes gleamed with deep interest. "You know her?" He replied, nonchalantly, trying not to betray his feelings. But I knew better.

"We're really close," I told him, matter-of-factly.

"Want to introduce me?"

And then it was done. I had all but written out a contract for our destinies and presented each one of my friends with the pen.

Every other therapist I've been to stops me right there and tell me not to blame myself. That it's not my fault.

Yeah, that's bullshit.

Hell yes it's my fault. It's my fault for introducing them. I should have told Colin to get lost. It's not like he could do anything for me anyways.

But I didn't. I took him up to Steph, pulled her down from her high perch, and introduced her to the man.

The man that she would love.

The man that introduced us to our new best friend.

---

_**Review!!!**_


	6. Rulers

**ADDICTION**

**Disclaimer – **Gilmore Girls don't belong to me. If I did, Lorelai never would've slept with Chris, let alone married the guy and Rory and Logan wouldn't have broken up for good at the end of the season. But if this Gilmore Girls Telemovie comes to pass, depending on how it goes I may forgive the shows creators for leaving it in the hands of David Rosenthal which ruined it all.

**Summary - **Addiction can be deadly and the road it leads you down can be even deadlier. Trory. Told from Louise's POV.

_**WARNING: Extremely AU!!! A story about drug addiction. Contains Rory/Tristan, Louise/Logan and brief mentions of Steph/Collin and Paris/Finn.**_

**Necessary Background Information**_** - **_Chris and Lorelai got married when they had Rory, so Rory grew up in Hartford, next door to Louise, and thus they became best friends. Tristan & Steph are step-brother and sister. Paris & Logan are brother and sister. (Honor and Madeline were not used as they did not fit appropriately for this story)

**Reviews – Thank you to: **_**trorygirl, just hidden, Princess Mel, distorted realities, Nicole Katherine, GG Fan, londonluver, JustLikeAGilmore, skate4cancer, LeytonTilEnd, Curley-Q, starshine34, Meredith McDreamy, darcy007, darkvixen06, curlyk03, bubz22 & :D. **_

---

**ADDICTION**

_Chapter 5 - Rulers_

Colin started coming over to the apartment more, and more. He had been a tough, inner city kid. Drug addict galore.

And baby, did he have connections.

Not only could he score us some good weed and rare pills (some even Tristan had never tried), but also he got us some hard stuff.

More specifically, coke.

It's scary. Making the transition, you know? I mean, you always think to yourself "yeah, I'll just do this, but it's not that bad because it's not crack, or acid, or anything like that," But when the option lays out before you, like a field of knives where you have to select the rubber one, then slit your throat with it.

So, I'm a little bit of a masochist. Sue me.

I remember when Colin pulled it out of his coat pocket and dropped it on the table, the precious powder carefully tucked away in a zip lock sandwich bag.

"Is that what I think it is?" Paris asked him, her eyebrows raised.

"Trust me, it's golden," Colin replied, taking out a small, rolled tube-like thing and snorting.

See, it probably sounds disgusting to you. Funny, it just makes me miss it.

It's much, much, much, much better than grass. Sure, it'll kill you much quicker, but damn, can it make you see.

We all had to try, of course.

Unfortunately, we all loved it.

After that, all our weed and pill money was spent on buying crack, as quickly as possible. And as awesome as it was, it wasn't cheap. Colin was respected and could get it reasonably priced, through some guy in New Haven. He told us he liked us, so he'd help us out.

Personally, I think the fact that Steph was fucking his brains out had a lot to do with it.

But still, he helped us out. I owe that much to him.

I think.

Well … it's complicated. See … he set us free to fly around in a world that him (and people like him) controlled. A world that you had to fight to succeed in. That can be hard.

It also didn't help that our new addiction was one that wasn't cheap.

We started to pawn things. Most of our trust funds were locked until we turned 21. None of us could hold down jobs longer than a month. Steph suggested we work at strip joints. Of course, Finn took that opportunity to point out the fact that Tristan would probably beat any man who even dared to look at Rory.

Yeah, that killed any enthusiasm in that field.

I guess that may have been when the stealing started. Not too much, just enough to get by. We had loaded parents. It seemed only fair at the time.

Parents with money are a very good thing. A very good thing.

I felt a little guilty at first, but the drugs helped take care of that. I guess I felt justified after a little while—they were the parents that had brought me into this world…the world that was constantly trying to break me. They owed me.

It sounds messed up. But it made perfect sense at the time.

Nothing major. Just some twenties from my mom's purse occasionally, over an extended period of time. Nothing so large she'd miss it.

The others worked on their parents too.

So that's how we got by. Stealing from our parents. My parents were very busy people. Business trips. Charity functions. They thought I was a good girl. I told them my grades dropping was because I wasn't feeling well. I snuck out of the house at night. They never missed me.

That's not the greatest feeling in the world. Being gone half the time, over-going a huge transformation in terms of appearance, and have an attitude adjustment…and your parents still don't care.

Yeah, I know, right? 'They care … they were just busy.' Save it. I've heard it already, and I'm pretty sure I'll go psycho on the next asshole who tells me that.

God, I would sell my own mother for a hit of something right about now.

The disgusting part is? We were naïve … even then. We were the most hard-care drug addicts in all of Hartford.

I walked in this club, one time, and the reaction was beautiful.

"Shhh," This one slut was whispering. "Here they come!"

The way she said _they_ … it was so cool. It was like "Get out of the way! They'll kick your ass!"

Everyone in the room tried to look at us without us noticing anything.

Yeah … okay. You kind of notice when everyone in the room looks at you. Especially when they're trying to not look at you.

Did that even make sense?

Oh screw it.

Paris sauntered over to the bar stool and plopped down, sending the girls next to her a dangerous look, making them pale slightly and dash off to the other side of the room. "Jello shots. Lots of them," she ordered in her holier-than-thou way.

Steph plopped down on the other side of her. "Wait! She called to the bartender who had started to move off. "What color jello? I don't eat green. Are they green?"

Finn laughed and wrapped his arms around both Steph and Paris. "She likes red though," he chimed in, much to the dismay of the slightly nervous bartender.

"Louise likes red too," Logan chimed in, placing a hot kiss against my cheek. What? Was it a new trend to talk about the jello preference of your girls?

Steph giggled slightly as Colin came up beside her and started to trail kisses down her neck.

"Hey sexy," he muttered. Paris rolled her golden eyes at them, and turned back to look at Tristan.

Tristan, who was sending a death glare to a guy that had dared, laid eyes on Rory.

"Do you need something?" he snapped at the guy in his cool, low deadly tone. It sends chills up my arm thinking about it. Imagine seeing a person hanging on a tree, completely gutted. That's what his voice was implying right about then.

The guy, who wasn't small, smirked at him. "Nice looking piece of ass you got there, DuGrey," he said lazily, letting his greedy brown eyes roll over Rory, surveying her short black skirt. Tristan's grip on her waist visibly tightened and Rory sent a cold glance over in the jerk's direction.

Gasps were heard on all sides of the room.

"What the fuck do you want Dean?" Rory snapped at him, stepping away from Tristan slightly, much to his displeasure.

"I think you know what I want, Hayden … ," the bastard, hereafter known as Dean, smirked again.

God, this guy was annoying.

"Her name's Rory," Tristan said, his dark blue eyes absolutely glittering with craze and anger.

He was so possessive of her. She used to think it was the sweetest thing in the world, but I thought it was just sick.

"I'll call her whatever the fuck— " Dean began.

He never got to finish.

Tristan was on him in an instant, knocking him to the floor, punching him, drawing blood. The guy didn't even have a chance to fight back.

Punch, after punch, after punch.

The guy was down, but Tristan didn't stop.

Just punch after …

So much blood.

Can't think about it.

The guy lived. I think. Tristan narrowly missed getting arrested.

It only took that one time. We became a legend.

We were the bad mother fuckers. The ones you didn't mess with.

We ruled.

---

_**Review!!!**_


	7. The End of the Beginning

**ADDICTION**

**Disclaimer – **Gilmore Girls don't belong to me. If I did, Lorelai never would've slept with Chris, let alone married the guy and Rory and Logan wouldn't have broken up for good at the end of the season. But if this Gilmore Girls Telemovie comes to pass, depending on how it goes I may forgive the shows creators for leaving it in the hands of David Rosenthal which ruined it all.

**Summary - **Addiction can be deadly and the road it leads you down can be even deadlier. Trory. Told from Louise's POV.

_**WARNING: Extremely AU!!! A story about drug addiction. Contains Rory/Tristan, Louise/Logan and brief mentions of Steph/Collin and Paris/Finn.**_

**Necessary Background Information**_** - **_Chris and Lorelai got married when they had Rory, so Rory grew up in Hartford, next door to Louise, and thus they became best friends. Tristan & Steph are step-brother and sister. Paris & Logan are brother and sister. (Honor and Madeline were not used as they did not fit appropriately for this story)

**Reviews – Thank you to: **_**bubz22, Ena, bananaslugg, Nicole Katherine, Curley-Q, laura, Daisy-Buchanan, Princess Mel, skate4cancer, just hidden, enviedxl0ve, trorygirl, corruptedchic, darkvixen06, starshine34, avidtroryfan, Meredith McDreamy, veronicalogan, darcy007, londonluver, max.logan, Ella, Retro Queen & :D. **_

**Thank you so much guys I love the reviews so much!**

---

**ADDICTION**

_Chapter 6 – The End of the Beginning_

And when I say we ruled, I mean it. People were scared to death of us. Word of mouth reached kids at school, and totally transformed us all into bad-asses with reputations. The teachers were scared to ask us shit.

The teachers.

You know you've built up a reputation when the teachers at the school are afraid to punish you.

We ruled. We could totally snow over our parents, and everyone else was afraid of us. Do you have any idea how awesome that is? How freeing?

How lonely?

It was us and the world. It didn't matter if we controlled the world or if the world was against us, it always ended the same.

Us. World. Not together.

I'm an observer, apparently. That's why I'm sitting here giving you all these shitty details about my friends. I'm not ready to tell my story yet. I spent those 4 years observing my friends, cataloguing every movement, and have spent the months I've been in therapy trying to figure them out.

Especially Tristan and Rory.

It's taken me awhile, but I've finally got it. See … The world was against them, too. They had both come from broken families, dysfunctional in their own right. Rory's parents, Chris and Lorelai were doomed from the start. Pregnant at 16 and married barely out of high school. It wasn't a total big surprise when Chris eventually ended up disappearing on his motorcycle, divorcing Lorelai when Rory had barely even turned 8, forcing her to live with her mother only. Her mother who had become a shell of the person she used to be. Tristan and Rory were both seriously fucked to begin with; imagine throwing drugs into the mix.

And they were all each other had.

I don't think they realized it until they met each other. I mean, I guess Tristan always thought that the rest of the gang was all he had, and Rory thought I was her family. But then the second they met each other, it all seemed to click.

They had found each other, and it was love, love in a world that otherwise taught them to lie, backstab, put on facades and please everyone by not being themselves. So they made a taciturn pact with each other, one that they never broke. It was them. Just them. Everyone else was dispensable, everyone else they could get rid of and still be happy.

They never broke that pact. Ever.

Another feeling I don't like— being replaced by your best friend. You don't know what fear is, until you realize that your best friend, the sister you never had, would easily kill you if you dare posed a threat to her boyfriend.

So we let them be. We let them screw each other's brains out, watching them get high together, while we listened to Paris try to convince herself that they were just screwing.

So there we sat, in passive silence, listening to Rory's screams that I could only imagine were being muted by a rough pillow or something like that. And I stared at Paris, and watched as her beautiful face was pillaged by a cloud of smoke, turning several shades of lavender, wondering (sometimes in her head, sometimes out loud) why it couldn't be her in that room.

The year flew by. I went from being a virginal 16 year old to a slutty, addicted 17 year old.

And that's when the shit started to really go down.

Parents. Even today they amaze me. They love you when you're all little, you know, cute and cuddly. Then you hit primary school and it's like "yeah … okay … hey sweetie. I'm have an important business meeting I need to get too. Or I really need to head to the salon. Bye," And then they give you total and complete freedom, and they want you to have fun. Of course, you get in the kind of fun they deem illegal, and when it comes to their attention, you're screwed.

So, after ignoring me for 2 years, all of a sudden they want the "Best Parents of the United States" award and start wondering where all the missing money went, why I'm never home (apparently the maid had been noticing things – Bitch), and all that other crap. Of course I got defensive. You didn't get defensive when you were innocent. And I was definitely guilty. I sure as hell wasn't going to admit that.

"My parents are getting really pissed," I told them all, one time, sitting on some dingy couch in the back of this party house. Smoke was pouring in from the next room, but I didn't really care. You got used to it after a while.

I never really got a chance to finish telling them why they were pissed because Colin _the savior_ came prancing in.

"Hey guys," Colin said, plopping down with us. "I got you a real treat," Then he pulled them out.

Pills. Cids. Acid. Whatever you want to call them.

Oh hell yes.

I didn't take any at first. I wanted to see what would happen, I guess. I don't know. Even then, after everything we had done, I still retained some of my skepticism of taking drugs.

"Acid?" Steph said, taking one and examining it in the palm of her hand. After investigating it in a semi-thorough manner, she popped it in her mouth. Tristan and Rory did the same.

The rest of us just watched.

I don't know how much time it took. I don't remember. But all of a sudden, I remember Steph shrieking.

"LOOK!" She screamed, enraged, pointing a finger at the pictures of the dogs playing poker hanging on the wall. I quickly turned to stare at Rory, whose bright blue eyes were wide and round following the direction of Steph's finger.

"The dogs!" Steph shrieked again. "They're plotting against us!!!! Can you see that? They want to take our supply! They're coming after us! Kill them!"

"Fuck you!" Rory echoed crying out loud, lunging at one of the pictures, ripping it from the wall, then proceeded to slam it up against the wall repeatedly, occasionally missing it entirely and hitting her knuckles instead.

"Fucking dogs!" Tristan exclaimed, ripping the torn, ruined picture from Rory's slightly bruised and bloodied hands and flinging it across the room, narrowly missing Paris's head.

"We did it!" Rory exclaimed proudly, her voice spacey. "We beat the dogs!"

"Rory," Tristan said suddenly, his pissed off voice turning into a soft, child-like tone. He took her into his arms gently and looked at her in awe. "You're glowing!"

It was so innocent the way he said it. His hard azure eyes got all young, soft, and vulnerable.

I was scared shitless.

It wasn't that my friends had just thought a picture of a pack of poker playing dogs was plotting against them. Not it wasn't that. It was much more simple. Tristan. He was not soft. He was not innocent.

He was totally tripping.

I watched her stunned, my eyes wide, as Tristan rubbed his hands tenderly over the goose-bumped flesh of her arms, as if he was feeling the warmth of the glow radiating off her skin. Rory just laughed this angelic laugh.

"I love you," he whispered to her skin as he pressed loving kisses all over her face. "I love you."

Rory just smiled knowingly, pressing her forehead against his own and capturing his lips in a soft, languid kiss. She murmured in return, "And I love you."

He did. He really loved her.

And she loved him.

Wait … I was talking about parents before … right? Oh fuck it.

You know what comes next. All good things have to end.

I came home drunk. My parents caught me.

---

_**Review!!!**_


	8. Running

**ADDICTION**

**Disclaimer –** Gilmore Girls don't belong to me. If I did, Lorelai never would've slept with Chris, let alone married the guy and Rory and Logan wouldn't have broken up for good at the end of the season. But if this Gilmore Girls Telemovie comes to pass, depending on how it goes I may forgive the shows creators for leaving it in the hands of David Rosenthal which ruined it all.

**Summary -** Addiction can be deadly and the road it leads you down can be even deadlier. Trory. Told from Louise's POV.

_**WARNING: Extremely AU!!! A story about drug addiction. Contains Rory/Tristan, Louise/Logan and brief mentions of Steph/Collin and Paris/Finn.**_

**Necessary Background Information** **-** Chris and Lorelai got married when they had Rory, so Rory grew up in Hartford, next door to Louise, and thus they became best friends. Tristan & Steph are step-brother and sister. Paris & Logan are brother and sister. (Honor and Madeline were not used as they did not fit appropriately for this story)

**Reviews – Thank you to:**_**just hidden, trorygirl, skate4cancer, Xla la loverX, LifeLookingDown, Nicole Katherine, LeytonTilEnd, Curley-Q, darkvixen06, veronicalogan, darcy007, corruptedchic, londonluver, Meredith McDreamy, bubz22, starshine34, Ena, avidtroryfan, nk-number1actress, mo, Jackie & :D.**_

**Thank you all for the reviews! They're like my crack!**

---

**ADDICTION**

_Chapter 7__ – Running_

I know, right? "Oh, her parents caught her drunk. Big deal," I was lucky, now that I look back on it. I was doing all this other illegal shit and they caught me drunk? No big. I thought I would just be grounded and it'd be over with. But it meant that they had their eye on me. I wasn't grounded for too long, like … two months, I think. It meant that they were watching me.

I ended up trying acid, and was totally hooked. Tripping was the best thing in the world. It still is, as far as I'm concerned. Even Paris liked it, and Paris doesn't really like anything … including herself.

The problem was, it was putting a major dent in our money. And let's face it, you don't exactly buy drugs with your platinum credit card. We needed cash and quick fast.

"We need money," Paris said coolly this one time at lunch, trying to ignore the fact that Tristan was falling asleep on Rory's shoulder. I nodded my head slightly and tossed a package at Finn. Colin had asked me to give it to him. School caught me, I'd be expelled, but you know … whatever.

"For what?" A groggy Steph asked, plopping down next to Rory.

"Umm … Steph?" Rory asked her, kind of out of it herself, staring at Steph dazedly.

"Hmm?" Steph responded mindlessly.

Rory seemed to slip back into her lull so I answered for her. "You realize you don't have a shirt on, right?"

Steph quickly looked down to examine her school uniform. Plaid skirt, knee high socks, and a skin colored bra. No shirt.

"Fuck," She muttered. "I knew it felt cold in here,"

Rory giggled. "Damn, how wasted are you?"

"Just a teeny, itty bitty, little bit," Steph replied, pinching her fingers close together, her eyes getting that bouncy look in them as she started to sing. "Hell … if I want people to know I'm wasted—"

Then she did something that's even big for Steph. Especially considering we were in school. She pranced over to the whigger table, CD in hand, put it in, then blasted the stereo, and hopped on the table.

"Go Steph!" Rory yelled, egging her on. "Where the hell did you guys go last night?" she said, poking her boyfriend in the ribs, registering a little jump in his body as he sleepily took in her words.

"You were with me," Tristan said matter of factly, running butterfly kisses along her cheeks. "We went to the Townsend's party." His lips descended to her neck, sucking a small gasp out of her. "Remember the jello shots? They were pink."

Rory paused for a second, smiling at him. "Oh yeah." She kissed him quickly and then turned her attention back up to Steph.

Yes. Well. The lunch period got quite a show that day.

There danced one of my best friends in the world, slowly taking off her blue blazer jacket, like some obscene strip show in the middle of the Chilton dining hall. She ended up pushing all the food off the table and rolling around, singing along rather loudly to "When I Think About You, I Touch Myself."

Headmaster Charleston ended up dragging her back to his office. Rory found Logan and I in the Janitor's supply closet later to inform us of her fate— Expulsion.

We never thought it was going to be that serious. NEVER. If she had known … she would never have done it.

That was the straw that broke the camels back. Tristan and Steph were supposed to be living with their parents, but they weren't. Hiding out in their rented apartment to avoid their _loving _parents. Of course, the school became aware of this fact when they called to inform William DuGrey. By the end of the day, Steph had snuck out, and Tristan was afraid to go back to his apartment, for fear that the state would be there for an illegal renting to a minor.

The state came to investigate; they'd find a lot of stuff.

From Tristan they'd get Rory. From Rory, they'd get me. It was that simple.

It didn't help that my parents were so Nazi like all of a sudden.

We snapped. That night we decided what we were going to do.

See … in Hartford … being the rich society kids that we were, the banks they didn't ask questions. It was all about who you were. All you had to do is present them with the account numbers, and bam, you can clear out your account in an instant.

I completely cleared out my university fund. If I feel any remorse over anything, it's that. All the money that my dad worked for my entire life to send me to university, to build me a future, I stole. For drugs at that.

Tristan, Steph, Rory and Finn's were locked with their trust funds. But Logan and Paris did the same thing. We were up a lot of money. But it was all cash. We decided to ditch the credit cards, we didn't want them tracking us and thus eventually end up finding us. We couldn't allow that to happen. So what he had then, was the most we could take.

We left in the middle of the night, hiding plans that said we were going to New York. I wrote my parents a note, of course. They would search my room, and find the plans that said we were New York bound. That would give us more than enough time to make it to LA, sell the car, and buy an apartment. We'd all live in it, and we'd all help out.

It sounded so much better in theory.

We made it to Kansas City, repainted the car, then sold it to this farmer who was looking for a car for his sixteen year old girl. If I ever see that girl again, I'm going to apologize to her. That purple 4WD of Finn's is ugly. UGLY. What can I say, he had extremely bad taste when it came to fashion.

We hitchhiked the rest of the way up there, mostly with this one trucker dude who let us ride in the back. Once, He even let me reach through the window and toot the horn.

Hey. It was fun!

We made it to LA in one piece, and got an apartment in a part of town that wasn't too awful. Or maybe it was. Drugs tend to take your standard of living down a few notches.

So we started our new life.

---

_**Review!!!**_


	9. Downfall

**ADDICTION**

**Disclaimer –** Gilmore Girls don't belong to me. If I did, Lorelai never would've slept with Chris, let alone married the guy and Rory and Logan wouldn't have broken up for good at the end of the season. But if this Gilmore Girls Telemovie comes to pass, depending on how it goes I may forgive the shows creators for leaving it in the hands of David Rosenthal which ruined it all.

**Summary -** Addiction can be deadly and the road it leads you down can be even deadlier. Trory. Told from Louise's POV.

_**WARNING: Extremely AU!!! A story about drug addiction. Contains Rory/Tristan, Louise/Logan and brief mentions of Steph/Collin and Paris/Finn.**_

**Necessary Background Information** **-** Chris and Lorelai got married when they had Rory, so Rory grew up in Hartford, next door to Louise, and thus they became best friends. Tristan & Steph are step-brother and sister. Paris & Logan are brother and sister. (Honor and Madeline were not used as they did not fit appropriately for this story)

**Reviews – Thank you to: **_**max.logan, Cindy, Xla la loverX. just hidden, trorygirl, Curley-Q, corruptedchic, bubz22, LeytonTilEnd, nk-number1actress, Nicole Katherine, Meredith McDreamy, darcy007, Jackie, darkvixen06, londonluver, sara, ggrulz56, starshine34, veronicalogan & :D. **_

**Thank you all for the reviews! They're like my crack!**

---

**ADDICTION**

_Chapter 8 - Downfall_

Our apartment was this roach infested little hole with a grimy bathroom. LA didn't afford the cheapest of accommodation and we wanted to save our money for other things.

Drugs.

Tristan and Rory didn't notice as they claimed one of the two bedrooms. No one dared argue with them.

Despite the rundown state of the apartment, it was cool, at first. Moving into our own place.

Living with your best friends. No parents. No rules.

We were on our own. We were a family. It was exhilarating.

Yeah, that lost its appeal very quickly.

It's kind of sad to say it out loud, but the first thing we did was find a new supplier, since we left Colin behind in the world of Hartford. Actually, Steph found us a new supplier. A new supplier that couldn't get enough of her. Which is a very good thing.

We found raves. We found clubs. We found parties. We found people like us. We had a good amount of money, so none of us really had to work.

Life fell into a pattern after a while. Drugs, Clubs, Sex, Music. It was all good.

Months went by, days blurring past me into oblivion. Steph started doing rave drugs, and was in absolute heaven. Rory liked them too, but stuck mainly to crack, as did Tristan. They didn't snort it anymore, they smoked it. The high doesn't last as long, but it's much more powerful.

Logan and I stuck with an array of choices, flipping from pills, to crack, to acid and repeating the cycle all over again. God, I use to love it when we took acid together, tripping with him, his warm body over mine … God, I can't. … I just need a moment. … Okay … I'm sorry, where was I? Oh yeah, the drugs.

Paris was the cleanest, of all of us, I'm sorry to say. I think she liked the way pain felt, that's why she stayed sober. If she could feel pain, it meant she could still hate Rory and be justified. If the drugs took that away from her, she'd be left a huge mass of patheticness.

Did that even make sense? No … didn't think so.

Finn … Oh God. I miss him so much.

I remember it so vividly, which is so odd, because, you know, I was very strung out on something when it happened. We were at this guy's party, on the top floor of this old, abandoned factory, lounging on some worn bean bags that had been haphazardly strewn across the floorboards.

Finn had been off dealing in the corner with some guy, scoring some new drugs. Steph was chatting animatedly to some guy's lap she was sitting on. Tristan and Rory were wrapped in each other as usual, while Paris held onto a barely touched beer bottle shooting daggers at them. I was talking to some random partygoers while waiting for Logan who had wandered off to grab some more beer for us. Basically, the usual routine.

So you can imagine what a shock it was when a blood curling scream broke through the chatter, the loud pumping music, the drug induced atmosphere, broke through it all.

Finn had some bad acid.

Very bad. His eyes, were wide, bloodshot and they looked like they were about to explode.

He had rushed back to us and was screaming, kicking, crying, begging us to take him home.

"Do you see them?!?" He shrieked, winding his arms around my calves, trying to hide under me. "The needles! They're trying to stab me to death with needles!"

"What the f— " Steph was saying, her voice panicked, standing up quickly and rushing towards Finn. She bent down on her knees and took his face in her hands. "What the hell is going on? Finn!! Snap out of it!"

Finn paid no notice. He pushed Steph away roughly and stood up as we all watched scared out of our wits. "I can't stay here!" He yelled, the tears running down his pale ashen face. "Take me home! Get these fucking needles away from me!"

He let out another bloodcurdling scream, this time making everyone stand up out of their chairs and rush at him, trying to calm him down. Logan had come back with beers at this point and was trying to help Tristan grab Finn who was darting around the room crazily.

"They're sticking me!" He screamed again, digging his nails into his skin and making long gashes, taking off pieces of flesh. Blood was starting to gush from the wounds.

I was going to be sick.

"Finn!" Steph yelled, finally managing to grab him again, and shook him desperately trying to snap him out of it. Tears were in her blue eyes.

Steph didn't cry.

He pushed her away violently, and slowly turned behind him.

You know when everything just seems to go into slow motion? That's what happened.

He pushed her away, turned towards the large full wall window, and ran full speed towards it.

His body hit the window at full force, the glass splintered and shattered into large pieces as he crashed through it fully, screaming.

Then, we all rushed futilely to the window, watching helplessly, frozen in horror as one of our best friends in the world, plummeted four stories to his death.

"Finn!" Steph screamed, pushing out the window into the freezing night air, seemingly trying to follow him.

"Oh my God!" Rory was sobbing uncontrollably as Tristan tried to take her in his arms, closing his eyes painfully at the sight we had just witnessed. "Not Finn!"

"We have to get out of here!" Logan was saying, pulling me and an incredibly shocked and motionless Paris out the door, "We have to get out of here before the cops get here and see us."

"Fuck you!" Steph turned around and screamed at him, her small fists hitting Logan's chest furiously. Tristan reached for her arm, to hold her back. She was losing it.

She had loved Finn dearly.

"Our friend is dead!" She screamed again hoarsely, her silver blue eyes filled with anger, craze and sadness. "Our friend is dead and you're worried about getting sent to jail? Fuck you!"

Tristan and Logan somehow managed to get us back to the apartment, I still can't remember how. We were back in our home, but nothing was the same. Logan looked like he was expecting it as he rubbed my back soothingly while I just numbly watched everyone else. Tristan was more concerned with making Rory feel better as she cried silently for the loss of our dear friend. Steph looked like she was about to kill someone, and Paris was just looking at Rory like she had done all this.

It never was the same, after that. All though we were all affected by Finn's death, I think it was Steph who it hit the most. Steph, she lost her optimism. She no longer saw us as family. Maybe she realized how replaceable she was. I don't know.

Even worse, we all stopped trusting each other. Steph hated Logan with a vengeance. Paris hated Rory. I hated Tristan for taking my best friend away from me. Tristan hated everyone except for Rory.

I think I even realized it then, which is a small miracle. We were on a downfall. Finn's death served as a catalyst for all this hate and anger. And we let it consume us.

Ripping us of our hearts almost like Finn ripped off his flesh.

I can't think about it. I just can't. If I think about it, I'll go crazy, then start playing with sharp objects again. Last time I did that I ended up with these two slash marks over my wrists.

Oops.

---

_**Review!!!**_


	10. Never the Same

**ADDICTION**

**Disclaimer –** Gilmore Girls don't belong to me. If I did, Lorelai never would've slept with Chris, let alone married the guy and Rory and Logan wouldn't have broken up for good at the end of the season. But if this Gilmore Girls Telemovie comes to pass, depending on how it goes I may forgive the shows creators for leaving it in the hands of David Rosenthal which ruined it all.

**Summary -** Addiction can be deadly and the road it leads you down can be even deadlier. Trory. Told from Louise's POV.

_**WARNING: Extremely AU!!! A story about drug addiction. Contains Rory/Tristan, Louise/Logan and brief mentions of Steph/Collin and Paris/Finn.**_

**Necessary Background Information** **-** Chris and Lorelai got married when they had Rory, so Rory grew up in Hartford, next door to Louise, and thus they became best friends. Tristan & Steph are step-brother and sister. Paris & Logan are brother and sister. (Honor and Madeline were not used as they did not fit appropriately for this story)

**Reviews – Thank you to: **_**corruptedchic. STB, just hidden, gg fan, Princess Mel, nk-number1actress, bubz22, Jackie, veronicalogan, trorygirl, Curley-Q, Nicole Katherine, JustLikeAGilmore, LaLa its Lana, londonluver, Meredith McDreamy, darkvixen06, starshine34, avidtroryfan, darcy007, max.logan & :D.**_

**Thank you all for the reviews! They're like my crack! I know this chapter is short but I've almost finished the story so I should be updating very regularly from now on. **

---

**ADDICTION**

_Chapter 9 – Never the Same_

Life was never the same.

We tried to return to some state of normalcy, but we stopped talking. Stopped communicating. We didn't go everywhere together as a group anymore. Steph grieved deeply, and then established communications with Rory and Tristan, but continued to ignore the rest of us. She'd never forgiven Logan for the way he brushed off Finn's death so callously, thinking so selfishly. And since both Paris and myself were linked to Logan, we were brushed aside by association.

Finn was gone, and that left a huge void in the apartment. No one could ignore it. We'd see one of his ratty old sweat shirts, or his guitar sitting in the corner, and there'd be this awkward silence, each of us blaming ourselves.

Grief makes you feel empty.

However, heroin does not.

You never expect to hit the bottom. You never realize how much makeup you're wearing until you start crying uncontrollably and it all starts running down your face. You never realize how slutty your clothes are until someone offers you money for some sexual favors. You never realize how poor you are until you actually accept their offer.

I'm getting ahead of myself.

Heroin was always so dark. I had already experimented with so much, weed, pills, acid, cocaine. They were always there to take me away. But heroin was something I- _we_ had yet to venture into. Truthfully, I was afraid. In my mind, it was the absolute worst I could do. That stuff was expensive.

Tristan brought it back to the apartment one day. "I've found the solution to all our problems," He told Rory, pushing her lithe body back on the old worn out couch, and sitting down close next to her. Paris looked on sitting in a decrepit armchair from the opposite side of the room, and Steph peered over at them from the floor with a misty interest.

"What is that?" Logan asked him, standing in the doorway, while I watched nervously resting against the closest wall.

"Some guy just gave it to me," Tristan replied. He stretched out his arm and slipped the needle into it, pumping the drugs into veins and through his system.

We all watched with anxious scrutiny to see what would happen.

See, with heroin you inject it into a muscle or into your blood stream. The high in the muscle lasts for about 5-8 minutes, but it's nowhere near as intense as the high from blood stream. It only lasts 7 seconds, but man … it's _amazing. _

He rested his head against the wall as his breathing became more inconsistent. Increasingly rapid before hitching into a slow steady rhythm. A raunchy smile spread over his face, and beads of sweat dribbled down off his chin.

He recovered completely a few minutes later, and turned to look at Rory, who was curled up next to him, her head balancing on her hand, her blue eyes intently watching him.

He smiled at her lovingly.

"You've got to try this," he whispered, leaning closer to her, kissing her mouth softly. She responded immediately, wrapping her petite arms around his neck, pulling him close.

He broke from her plush and bruised lips, took her arms, and started planting light kisses up and down them, all over. He looked at her attentively, waiting for her consent. Biting her lip, she nodded slowly.

He smiled again, and turned her arm over, kissing the white porcelain of her perfectly smooth wrist. "You'll love it, I promise," He told her.

He held her wrist and reloaded the needle he had used on his arm. I blanched at the sight. God, they were sharing needles now?

We all held our breaths. There was not a sound in the room.

Not. A. Sound.

Slowly, he sank the needle into her arm.

Her usual bubbly and innocent expression became blank for a moment. Her bright blue eyes looked so peaceful, so serene.

Then, it started.

Her eyes fluttered shut and her mouth opened, suddenly begging for air. "Oh my God," she muttered. "Oh my God, Oh my God, Oh my God,"

"Sshhhh," He told her, kissing her lips gently. "You talk too much,"

He just stared at her so intently, so lovingly, not caring that the rest of us were in the room. He had managed to get Rory off, and that's all that was important to him. Rory was all that mattered.

She eventually came out of it and immediately begged for more, but he wouldn't give it to her. He pushed her back on the couch and kissed down her body, pushing his rough hands under her shirt, caressing her soft skin. She arched her back high at his touch, moaning softly.

Then … well … you can guess what happened.

In front of us too.

They had never been … up front before. They kept it in their room. Which was kind of nice because the images of naked Tristan haunted Logan until he died.

Until he died.

Anyway.

It was all downhill from there. How many times can I possibly say that? No, I meant drug wise. They had done heroin. There was nothing else for them to do.

Sometimes, I think Tristan and Rory might still be alive if _she_ just didn't come into the picture. I mean … I blame her sometimes, when blaming myself gets too tiring.

Summer.

---

_**Review!!!**_


	11. Adverse Reaction

**ADDICTION**

**Disclaimer –** Gilmore Girls don't belong to me. If I did, Lorelai never would've slept with Chris, let alone married the guy and Rory and Logan wouldn't have broken up for good at the end of the season. But if this Gilmore Girls Telemovie comes to pass, depending on how it goes I may forgive the shows creators for leaving it in the hands of David Rosenthal which ruined it all.

**Summary -** Addiction can be deadly and the road it leads you down can be even deadlier. Trory. Told from Louise's POV.

_**WARNING: Extremely AU!!! A story about drug addiction. Contains Rory/Tristan, Louise/Logan and brief mentions of Steph/Collin and Paris/Finn.**_

**Necessary Background Information** **-** Chris and Lorelai got married when they had Rory, so Rory grew up in Hartford, next door to Louise, and thus they became best friends. Tristan & Steph are step-brother and sister. Paris & Logan are brother and sister. (Honor and Madeline were not used as they did not fit appropriately for this story)

**Reviews – Thank you to: **_**trorygirl, Jackie, bubz22, londonluver, LeytonTilEnd, veronicalogan, just hidden, JXB0208, nk-number1actress, Princess Mel, max.logan, peace love thc, Curely-Q, coffeeaddict1515, Meredith McDreamy, freelancer starbuck:D, corruptedchic, starshine34, darcy007 and darkvixen06.**_

**Note: This is trorygirl posting for rory.huntzburger while she's away on holidays with a lack of computer and internet. She still wanted to keep the story going and finish it quickly. So she asked me as a favor to keep the updates coming with chapters she's already pre-typed. Thank you ****all for the reviews! rory.huntzburger loves them!**

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**ADDICTION**

_Chapter 10 – Adverse Reaction_

Summer.

The whore.

Tristan would have never been interested in her. Ever. Period.

And Summer, like Paris, hated that. And also, like Paris, hated the girl who actually had him.

Rory.

I was with them when Summer first came into the picture. We were at some club in LA, and Rory had gone to the bathroom. The slut, finding Tristan alone, sauntered up to him.

"Hey baby," She said provocatively. "What's your name?"

"Fuck off, slut," He spat at her, his eyes careless. She wasn't Rory. That's all he cared about.

She looked taken aback. It was clear that no guy had ever turned her down before.

Rory, whose timing is always perfect, came back at that particular moment.

"Hey," She said, wrapping her arms around his neck and giving him a kiss that would make Madonna blush.

"Hey," He replied, his voice throaty, as he wrapped his arms around her waist. "You want to go back to the apartment now?"

Summer didn't make a move to leave. I can't figure out if she was stupid and didn't take the hint, or if she was in shock because Tristan didn't want to screw her pathetic ass.

"Who's that?" Rory asked, jerking her chin in the direction of the aforementioned slut.

Tristan just shrugged his shoulders. "Don't know, don't care," He said.

"Always so rude, Tristan," she said, kissing him again.

"Tristan?" Summer asked, interested. Okay, damn. You think I need therapy? You'd have a field day with this chic.

They left, like, right after that, but there was something in her eyes that told me it wasn't over. I remember talking to Rory about it.

"Please, that bimbo?" She said laughing. "She's just upset because Tristan didn't want to touch her pathetic ass.

She was so quick to cast it off as nothing. But it wasn't nothing. It was definitely something.

Not something between Summer and Tristan, at all. I mean, Tristan was Rory's. He belonged to her and she belonged to him. That was pretty obvious. But Summer was the something that shook up Rory's world, made her start questioning everything around her.

They saw her again a few days later, and this time Summer didn't wait until after Rory had left to hit on him. That pissed Rory off. No one messes with her like that.

"That bitch!" She hissed furiously when they got back to the apartment. "I can't believe her! It was like I wasn't even there!"

"Please," Tristan told her, rolling his blue eyes. "Like I would ever touch that."

Rory eventually calmed down, of course. She never could stay mad for very long. All she had to do was shoot up, and bam, she was calm.

That only lasted until the night Summer followed Tristan and Rory home.

"Are you going to invite her in?" Paris asked, taking her turn to stare through the peep-hole into the hallway where Summer stood waiting.

"Hell no!" Steph snapped, annoyed wanting the whole matter to be done with. "She looks … dirty."

Paris just shrugged and cocked her head to the side curiously. "Does she have any drugs?"

Steph paused a second before opening the door a little. "Hey." She said. "Do you have any drugs?"

Most people would have been a little weirded out at that question, but Summer just shrugged. "Not on me." She told them.

Steph promptly slammed the door in her face. "Nope. No drugs." She told Paris.

"How about cigs?" Paris said, turning from Steph to the door to yell through it. "Hey! Slut girl. Do you have any cigs?"

"Paris, don't make her think like she can stay here," Rory told her. "She's annoying enough already." Paris narrowed her golden eyes, and started to open her mouth, but decided against it. Tristan was home (and I use the word "home" in the loosest sense), and he hated it when anyone insulted his beloved Rory.

Deep down inside Tristan, I think he was flattered at the fact Summer was obsessing over him. And I think Rory knew that, and it made her insecure. Or at least, that's my theory. I could be wrong.

Insecurity and Angel Dust are a bad, bad thing.

Again, getting ahead of myself.

The next night, they ended up going out to a rave, and I ended up following them, seeing how Logan was spent from the wall-banging sex we'd had that day.

Rory had only done Fairy Dust in low, low, low amounts. It was too costly and she wanted the money for heroin.

She went off to find some, when out of nowhere comes the Supreme Slut herself. Summer.

She was obviously drunk. Or high. Or hell, maybe she was just being Summer. But she threw herself down on Tristan's lap and started doing … well … yeah.

It took Tristan a minute to realize what was going on, and being a guy (and high at that) he didn't push her away immediately until he realized what she was doing. And that she wasn't Rory.

Rory, unfortunately, saw it happen.

Her face. I will never forget her face. It just twisted into this grimace, like she was physically hurting. She ran out the door.

Tristan followed her, yelling at her, demanding to know what was wrong. All the way back to the apartment, they yelled, screaming at each other, while I followed a few paces behind.

"What the fuck did I do?" Tristan growled, walking quickly trying to keep up with Rory who was walking at warp speed.

Rory stopped incredulous and turned to face him angrily. "She was fucking down on you, you bastard!"

She started walking off again, while Tristan ran after her. "And I told her to get off!"

"To get you off, you mean! Don't touch me! You asshole!"

And they continued this until they busted into the apartment, slamming the door very loudly behind them.

And it took about that much time for the dust to kick in.

"Why are you being such a bitch? I have no interest in that slut!" Tristan yelled at Rory in frustration.

"You sure seemed interested!"

Tristan rolled his eyes and ran his hand through his golden locks tiredly. "Will you PLEASE shut the fuck up?"

Rory's eyes suddenly snapped, like something in side of her had just been broken. Tears welled up in her doe blue eyes and threatened to spill over.

It had kicked in.

"Yes," she whispered finally. She gained voice, and reached over to throw whatever she could find at him while he ducked behind the couch. "Yes!" She screamed her voice full of rage and hostility. "I'll shut the fuck up! I'll just get the fuck out of your life so that way you can go around and fuck whatever ten cent store whore you want!"

She threw herself into the bathroom dramatically, and locked the door.

Steph came up behind me as I stared dazedly at the bathroom door. "What did she have?" She whispered into my ear, concerned.

Paris sidled up beside Tristan, trying not to be too smug. "Trouble in paradise?"

I scrunched my eyes tight, trying to remember what she had taken. I couldn't remember. Then it hit me.

"Dust." I whispered to her in stunned realization. Steph's eyes widened in horror.

"Fuck." She muttered under her breath, and attacked the door with her fists. "Rory!" She screeched, banging against the door. "Rory, baby, listen, don't do anything! I know you want to die. But please, don't cut yourself."

We heard the sound of a glass breaking, and huge sobs coming from the inside of the door. Steph pounded the door, and then turned back to Tristan.

"She took dust, she's probably going suicidal!" She snapped. That registered something in Tristan's eyes.

"Rory, open the fucking door!" Tristan said, sounding almost panicked. His eyes didn't look so pissed off now. They looked worried.

Steph looked equally as worried as she pleaded desperately. "Rory, please. Don't cut yourself! Don't go for the wrist or the throat, okay? You don't want to do it!"

Paris, who was pleased by the initial confrontation, looked thoroughly put out. "Let the fucking bitch bleed to death," she snarled, turning away from the concerned group.

Big mistake.

Tristan stopped mid-pound and turned around, his face full of malice and hate. "You fucking bitch!" He hissed, the venom dripping from his voice. I don't think he had ever hit a girl before.

He did it so well.

He backhanded Paris and sent her flying across the couch. She let out a startled cry.

"What the hell did you just do?" Steph gasped shocked and terrified, for the first time in her life scared of her step brother.

Tristan picked Paris up by the shoulders and flung her against the door furiously. "I don't care if you are like my sister," he hissed at her, his blue eyes blazing in anger. "You ever say anything like that again, and I'll break your neck, got it?"

Paris nodded her face deathly pale; her eyes squeezed shut, tears of pain seeping through them.

When I say pain, I don't mean the physical kind.

Tristan killed Paris. He didn't choke her, he didn't break her neck, he just gave her a reason to stop living.

"Tristan!" Steph snapped, breaking everyone out of their shocked trance. "Help me get this fucking door open!"

He sent a final glare to Paris, and brushed past me. I was scared shitless— of everything. Of him … of losing Rory.

Everything.

He used every ounce of rage he had, and he slammed into the door, banging it open.

There sat Rory, in the midst of broken glass, with long, deep gashes all over her once-smooth porcelain skin. She looked up at him, her frame suddenly too thin, with the most pitiful expression on her face. Her eyes were puffy and red, and she had blood all matted in her long brown hair.

I gasped in horror, and reached towards her, but Steph's hand reached out grabbing my wrist to stop me.

Tristan entered the small dingy bathroom, bending down and scooping her up in his broad arms. He slammed the door shut, and I could here the trickle of the shower starting up.

He was going to take care of her.

I could hear murmured soothing loving whispers coming from the other side. "Don't you ever do that to me again. I love you. Hang on baby, let me take care of you." Etc.

"Is that what I have to do?" Steph and I both turned towards Paris. Her golden brown eyes were still closed, protecting the unshed tears from falling to their death.

"What?" Steph answered carefully, her tone gentle. She could recognize pain when she saw it.

"Cut myself all over. Cut myself until I bleed. Or would that even be enough still? I could be on the ground right in front of him, bleeding, and he still wouldn't love me."

"Par," Steph said, slowly walking towards the girl's shrunken silhouette on the couch. "He didn't mean it. He was just upset. Don't let it get to you."

"He hit me!" Paris spit out at her, shooting daggers at Steph. "He hit me!"

I looked over at Steph, and it kind of hit us too. Tristan was capable of hurting. Hell, he'd kill us if we'd provoked him. He was dangerous.

But what the hell could we do? I mean, doctor, tell me what I could have done! Just leave? I wasn't going to leave the apartment. We had no real source of money! Sure, I could take what little money we had left and leave, but what about Rory? She was my best friend. My sister. I was the one who had gotten into this whole mess in the first place. I couldn't leave her. And she, she would never leave Tristan. She loved him too much.

And I can tell by this shocked look on your face doctor that you think my situation was bad. Well, let me tell you something. You don't even know half of it. It got worse, if at all possible.

See, what they don't tell you, can kill you. Drugs take away your happiness.

And now, I'm not saying it like "You're on drugs, you're unhappy." That's total bullshit, we all know that. I'm saying it exactly like it sounds. Drugs take away your ability to be happy. That's why all you med types prescribe me anti-depressants. Nothing makes me happy anymore. The three years of drug use were finally catching up to us. And they were finally taking their effects.

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_**Review!!!**_


	12. Numb

**ADDICTION**

**Disclaimer –** Gilmore Girls don't belong to me. If I did, Lorelai never would've slept with Chris, let alone married the guy and Rory and Logan wouldn't have broken up for good at the end of the season. But if this Gilmore Girls Telemovie comes to pass, depending on how it goes I may forgive the shows creators for leaving it in the hands of David Rosenthal which ruined it all.

**Summary -** Addiction can be deadly and the road it leads you down can be even deadlier. Trory. Told from Louise's POV.

_**WARNING: Extremely AU!!! A story about drug addiction. Contains Rory/Tristan, Louise/Logan and brief mentions of Steph/Collin and Paris/Finn.**_

**Necessary Background Information** **-** Chris and Lorelai got married when they had Rory, so Rory grew up in Hartford, next door to Louise, and thus they became best friends. Tristan & Steph are step-brother and sister. Paris & Logan are brother and sister. (Honor and Madeline were not used as they did not fit appropriately for this story)

**Reviews – Thank you to**_**avidtroryfan, londonluver, starshine34, bubz22, Jackie, LeytonTilEnd, JXB0208, nk-number1actress, trorygirl, corruptedchic, Curley-Q, Nicole Katherine, peace love thc, d, Meredith McDreamy, veronicalogan, darkvixen06, Valtjuh, enviedxl0ve, darcy007, max.logan, Princess Mel & JustLikeAGilmore.**_

**Posted by trorygirl on behalf of roryhuntzburger. **

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**ADDICTION**

_Chapter 11 - Numb_

You either get depressed or just numb. Can you honestly imagine going through life knowing you'll never be happy on your own? Sure … you can pay for the drugs that will give it to you … but it's not the same. Human beings were meant to be happy.

All the years of drug use … it caught up to us. I mean, physically, we were disgusting, but emotionally, we were worse.

I remember looking into this mirror one time, and not recognizing myself. It was so scary. I had barely eaten the entire week, hadn't washed my hair, and had on an outfit that fit me when I was ten. I looked like an emancipated home wrecker. My thick eyeliner was dripping down my face, and I had a small trail of dried blood from one nostril.

I was disgusting.

You hear all about the glamorous side of doing drugs. You know, the tragically beautiful image of a person overdosing on the floor.

Let me tell you something asshole. It isn't beautiful. It's just tragic.

Tristan hit Paris. That was an issue we all couldn't get over. Logan finally came home, and I told him all about it. It pissed him off, but at the same time, he didn't care. He was just going to shoot up anyways and it'd all be over with.

It was then I realized I was alone. 

I was surrounded by all these people who I thought I loved and loved me, when in reality, they didn't give a rat's ass about me. All they cared about was the fact that THEY weren't alone. Never mind the fact that there was no emotional bond between any of us (Except Tristan and Rory, of course) at all, we were bodies in the same room. They went weeks without acknowledging my presence. They didn't care about how much I was eating. They didn't care that I was sickly looking.

And that's what's sick. We'd shoot up, and we'd convince ourselves that it couldn't get any better than this.

"Holy shit." Paris hissed, one day, as she reached into the jar placed on the kitchen bench and pulled out all the money we had left.

Steph looked at her, blue eyes wide, as Paris counted it out loud. We needed that money. We couldn't access our accounts anymore knowing by now that our parents and the police would be able to track us down.

"We have less than a hundred dollars left."

Logan looked over at her with a worried expression on his face. I'm pretty sure his face only made two expressions. One was the worried one where he scrunched up his forehead. The second one was this dopey grin he made whenever he got off on drugs or I fuck— Yeah … never mind.

"That's impossible." A drowsy Rory called from the couch. "We had a thousand a week ago."

"What are we going to do?" Paris snapped loudly but then tensing noticeably as Tristan lifted up his head from the couch to glare at her.

"Where the hell did all the money go?" Steph said, clearly puzzled. "I know we did not blow a 1000 on drugs last week. Hell, I only did $40 worth." She sent a hard look around the room. "Who's been holding out on us?"

No one responded, but all our eyes casted automatically towards Tristan and Rory. They'd been out a hell of a lot. A hell of a lot.

"It doesn't matter," Rory groaned, burying her head in Tristan's neck, trying to sleep.

"Big night last night?" Steph asked, trying to hide the sarcasm in her tone.

Tristan lifted his head up at that. "What are you implying?" He growled, his dark blue eyes taking on the crazy look we had all gotten used to avoiding.

Steph didn't back down. Hell, she had been slapped by her step-dad, why not add her brother to the list. "Where the fuck is my money?" She said, as calmly as possible. "Don't lie to me Tristan. I know you took it. Where are the drugs? I want my cut."

"Shut up, Steph." Rory snapped. "You don't know what the hell you're talking about." 

This only succeeded in making Steph more mad. "I think I do! I'm going to have to start sellin' if we don't have enough money! Where the fuck is the cash, Tristan?"

Tristan stood up straight, bringing Rory up with him. "Don't you talk to me like that!" He roared. "You bitch, you sound just like William did!"

That seemed to set Steph off. She went eye to eye with him. "Of all the things of William's to pick up on, I'm glad it was talking like him." She narrowed her eyes and went in for the kill. "At least I'm not bashing my friend's brains out!"

She called him on it. Steph. The girl had balls. She called him on it.

He didn't dare argue with her. It was the truth, what she was saying. There was no use denying that.

There was this change … in his eyes. All the anger faded out of them and was replaced with this unreadable emotion. Rory seemed to be able to tell what he was feeling, and took his hand.

Her scars were healing nicely. Only a few of them were actually leaving marks. 

"Let's go." He whispered, pulling Rory out the door. She was dressed in a tank top and a fading pair of panties, but no one was going to tell her to stop.

"He's ashamed." Steph said, matter of factly, still talking to the place where Tristan had just stood. She closed her eyes, almost like she was hoping this entire thing was a bad dream.

That was it. He was ashamed. He suddenly realized what he was turning into, and that was bringing him down.

He and Rory came back, later, after we had all gone out or gone to sleep. They snuck back in the room, and closed the door behind them.

I remember waking up on the couch, and just staring at the door. I was on the outside, and I couldn't even look in.

Rory was my best friend. My best friend. Look where she was now, because of me. Look how much she had lost. All because I dragged her to that stupid party.

We ran out of money at the end of the week. No one knew where it went, but no one dared asked. Rory and Tristan were totally reclusive—they talked to no one.

Lacking any other option, Steph pulled on the sluttiest outfit she had, pulled her hair up, applied way too much makeup, and set out. When she came back, she had 200 more dollars to add to the jar, which she hid in a different spot.

I was awake when she came back, and I remember looking at her with this look of pity in my eyes. I was remembering the time when we first met, her trying to be nice to me, fixing me a drink, grabbing my hand, pulling me to see Paris's reaction to first seeing Tristan and Rory. I thought I was so cool. I thought that I was so smart.

I was so fucking stupid.

She sat down next to me. "Hey." She whispered, not wanting to wake up Logan who was asleep in the other room.

"How'd it go?" I whispered back at her, scared to hear the reaction.

She smiled bitterly and shrugged her shoulders, avoiding my gaze. "It doesn't matter," She said at last, pain in her voice. "I have to support my family. I was the one that got expelled. I'm the reason we're here. It's the least I can do."

I remember thinking at the time "You idiot … it's not you that got us here … it's me. If I had never brought Rory to that party, we'd all be a lot better off." 

I looked at her again, and noticed how tired she looked. I could see the dread radiating off her body, dreading tomorrow.

I would soon know how she would feel.

I volunteered to go with her. We would make twice as much money. It would be like, paying for my sins or something.

It's fucked up thinking, but I had to do it. I couldn't let Steph go through it alone, especially with it being my fault.

Rory offered to go too, but Tristan wouldn't let her. It was just me and Steph, patrolling our little street corner, waiting for people to pick us up.

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_**Review!!!**_


	13. Fall Apart

**ADDICTION**

**Disclaimer –** Gilmore Girls don't belong to me. If I did, Lorelai never would've slept with Chris, let alone married the guy and Rory and Logan wouldn't have broken up for good at the end of the season. But if this Gilmore Girls Telemovie comes to pass, depending on how it goes I may forgive the shows creators for leaving it in the hands of David Rosenthal which ruined it all.

**Summary -** Addiction can be deadly and the road it leads you down can be even deadlier. Trory. Told from Louise's POV.

_**WARNING: Extremely AU!!! A story about drug addiction. Contains Rory/Tristan, Louise/Logan and brief mentions of Steph/Collin and Paris/Finn.**_

**Necessary Background Information** **-** Chris and Lorelai got married when they had Rory, so Rory grew up in Hartford, next door to Louise, and thus they became best friends. Tristan & Steph are step-brother and sister. Paris & Logan are brother and sister. (Honor and Madeline were not used as they did not fit appropriately for this story)

**Reviews – Thank you to: **_**Curley-Q, JXB0208, JustLikeAGilmore, peace love thc, Nicole Katherine, finnlover, nk-number1actress, loganzahotie707, veronicalogan, darcy007, Meredith McDreamy, Jackie, starshine34, max.logan, bubz22, trorygirl, londonluver, avidtroryfan, darkvixen06 & sara.**_

**Posted by trorygirl on behalf of roryhuntzburger. **

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**ADDICTION**

_Chapter 12 – Fall Apart_

Prostitution isn't all that hard.

You just have to keep up mental blocks. You have to pretend you're just getting off on some drug. Or you pretend you're with your boyfriend. You just- …

You know what? I'm not getting into that.

Just know that I did it. Just know that I tried to give back to them what I had taken away from them.

Tristan and Rory— Oh God, it breaks my heart to even think about it.

Rory was just skin and bones. God, she just looked so sickly and pale. She was forgetting to eat, and I think she was lying to Tristan about it. Her usually bright blue bubbly eyes were sunken in, and her eyes looked huge in contrast to her head.

Tristan's blonde hair had grown out significantly, almost touching his shoulders and his face took on this sharpness from the heavy drug use. They were both disgusting and in need of a shower, but I don't think they noticed. Tristan pulled away from all of us after the confrontation with Steph. I think he realized what a monster he had become, that he was anything remotely like his father William, the fact he could be consider worse ... I think it terrified him.

Whatever the reason, he clung to Rory. More than ever before. Which was rather convenient because Rory clung to him, too. They had to be within touching distance of each other, or they'd both get paranoid. Logan claimed that they were addicted to each other.

No one argued.

I cannot tell you how often I tried to talk to Rory, but it was no use. I only ever saw her when she tiptoed out of their bedroom, with Tristan behind her, her face looking so pale and young.

Paris noticed that. She noticed everything about Tristan, and whether she liked it or not, Rory was a part of Tristan. She observed everything from Finn's old corner of the room, her eyes pained. She had loved Tristan. Tristan hit her. What else was there to do?

She didn't smile. She didn't eat. She didn't even get high. She just sat in the corner of the room, her eyes never faltering, staring at the door leading into Tristan and Rory's room.

"I sometimes dream it had been me." She whispered one day into the air. I don't even think she knew anyone else was in the room, but I was. "That he'd hold me like that. That he'd whisper in my ear like that. But I know it won't. He hates me. He hates _every one_ _of us_ except for her." Quick tears spilled down her pale cheeks and she didn't even try to wipe them away. "I should have loved Finn," She whispered, her golden fire eyes shutting closed slowly as silent tears continued to trek down her face. "I should have loved Finn."

I wish I had been nicer to her, now that I think about it. I never really tried talking to her. I mean … she was Paris. The Ice Bitch. What was I supposed to do, extend my hand and give her a bullshit smile saying "Let's start all over again, Par."

I never was her friend. So it makes no sense that I'd be the one to find her.

I had just gotten home from "work" as Steph called it. She had needed some more drugs, so she told me she was going to meet me at home later.

I had to pee. It sounds ridiculous, but I had to pee.

I opened the door, and there she was, Paris's pale flesh and long blond hair swimming in a sea of blood, upon the cracked tiles of the bathroom floor.

Paris's blood.

She had set it all up for Tristan to find her. The note was for Tristan resting on the bathroom table top. I think a part of her was hoping he'd find it, and suddenly have this realization that he was really in love with Paris all this time and not Rory, kill himself, and they'd burn in hell together.

Truthfully, he would have stepped over her body and gone to the bathroom.

Oh my God. That was awful. I didn't mean that.

I didn't mean that.

I just … I need to view Tristan as this selfish bastard. This issue I have. Ask Doctor Number 1 why.

I think I let out a shocked scream and fell down onto my knees, desperately trying to find a pulse. I just got my shaking hands covered in blood.

Never try to find a pulse in the wrist on a person who has slashed their wrists. It'll give you a feeling that will haunt your dreams for the rest of your life.

It was useless, anyway. She was dead a long time before I came in.

I freaked out, crying hysterically kneeling on the bathroom floor as I tried to shake Paris awake. I mean … the corpse of a girl I had known forever was sitting in the bathroom of our apartment. What was I supposed to do?

Thankfully, Steph walked in a few minutes later before I got too crazy. I managed to stop my shaking and turned to face Steph.

I'll always remember her reaction. She walked to the bathroom door, clamped her hand over her mouth, and let the shocked tears spill from her blue eyes down her face. Then, avoiding getting in the blood, she bent over and gave the blond girl a soft kiss on the forehead.

"Sweet dreams, Par." She whispered, her voice wavering slightly. She turned to me, slowly, her eyes filled with pain. "Get Logan." She told me. "We can't call the coronary. They'll just call the police. He has some friends that will clean up this mess."

To this day I don't know if she meant "mess" as in Paris's body or as in all the blood. I guess it doesn't really matter.

Rory felt awful. She blamed herself. Which was highly coincidental considering Tristan considered it to be his fault. He just held Rory close and buried his face in her brown mangy hair.

Logan was devastated. Paris had been his sister, after all. I mean … why wouldn't he be devastated?

Some shady looking characters came in to clean up the blood and take her away, and stuff. I couldn't watch, so I just left the apartment and went to a club. I came back a day later, after I was sure everything was all gone.

Things were getting worse by the day. And then came the day we discovered how much of our cash was missing.

And then things just fell apart.

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_**Review!!!**_


	14. Hating Life

**ADDICTION**

**Disclaimer –** Gilmore Girls don't belong to me. If I did, Lorelai never would've slept with Chris, let alone married the guy and Rory and Logan wouldn't have broken up for good at the end of the season. But if this Gilmore Girls Telemovie comes to pass, depending on how it goes I may forgive the shows creators for leaving it in the hands of David Rosenthal which ruined it all.

**Summary -** Addiction can be deadly and the road it leads you down can be even deadlier. Trory. Told from Louise's POV.

_**WARNING: Extremely AU!!! A story about drug addiction. Contains Rory/Tristan, Louise/Logan and brief mentions of Steph/Collin and Paris/Finn.**_

**Necessary Background Information** **-** Chris and Lorelai got married when they had Rory, so Rory grew up in Hartford, next door to Louise, and thus they became best friends. Tristan & Steph are step-brother and sister. Paris & Logan are brother and sister. (Honor and Madeline were not used as they did not fit appropriately for this story)

**Reviews – Thank you to**_**:D, nk-number1actress, Nicole Katherine, Curley-Q, just hidden, JXB0208, enviedxl0ve, trorygirl, darkvixen06, bubz22, max.logan, Meredith McDreamy, Jackie, starshine34, londonluver, corruptedchic, avidtroryfan, veronicalogan, darcy007 & sara.**_

**Hi I'm back! & ****a special thank you to trorygirl for continuing the posts! Please update AOS soon! I love that story so much!**

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**ADDICTION**

_Chapter 13 – Hating Life_

Paris's death affected everyone more than Finn's did. Finn's death was more of a "Welcome to how much the world sucks" kind of thing. Paris's death was more of a "finding that there's no way out" kind of thing. There was no turning back. We couldn't suddenly transform our lives around. We were stuck.

So we existed. Steph, Logan, Tristan, Rory, and myself. The dingy apartment was not empty, by any means, but considering Tristan and Rory were shells of living people, they barely counted.

Tristan was going through this very bizarre state in his life where we had no idea how the drugs were going to affect him. He went through a period where he would not eat, sleep, or talk. Then he went through a brief period where he bashed the hell out of anyone who dared come within five feet of him and Rory. He was dangerous, and we kept away from him. 

That was the way they wanted it.

I sat on the train, this one day, and there was this couple that looked exactly like Tristan and Rory. I think I may have been a tiny bit delusional, considering I hadn't eaten in two days, but they were so sweet. They were from the nicer part of town, and the girl had on a beautiful denim jacket with a light pink Rory sweater on underneath, and the guy was sweetly holding her hand. The guy's blonde hair was all nice and spiked, the way Tristan's used to be before he grew it out. They looked so happy.

And I hated them.

How the hell can be they happy?!? Don't they know the second they stepped off the train; the entire world was going to screw them over? But there they were, just sitting there, like a bunch of happy idiots. It wasn't even a drug induced euphoria.

They were in love.

Maybe that's why Tristan and Rory survived as long as they did. They were in love.

So, Tristan was crazy. Rory was in love. Paris and Finn were both dead, Logan was completely out of it.

That left Steph and I.

The whores. The prostitutes.

The bread-winners.

Shows what kind of people we are, huh?

I remember the day she came home after a long _shift_, and went to go put away all our money in the jar she had hidden.

It was empty.

"FUCK!" She cried, looking thoroughly panicked. "Logan!" She yelled, upset. "Get in here!"

He came out of the bathroom shuffling his feet looking hung over. "What?" 

"Did you take any of this money?" Her voice was scared, like she was about to cry. She didn't want to face it— she didn't want to think about what she would have to do if he said no. 

Logan's face paled noticeably. "Tristan and Rory." He whispered softly. "They went out on hour ago, right after I got home. I heard them moving around in here …"

Steph closed her blue eyes painfully and whispered an inaudible word.

The door handled jingled. They were home.

She opened her eyes and spun around to greet them as they walked through the door, Tristan's arm wrapped securely around Rory's waist, their empty, desperate eyes focused on the floor, walking quickly.

"Stop right there assholes!" Steph muttered through clenched teeth. Tristan tried to keep walking, but Logan blocked his path. Logan pushed me in front of the other door, so they couldn't leave.

"What are you talking about, Steph?" Tristan muttered, exhausted. He had a large scratch going down the side of his face. He had been in a fight.

"Where's my money. Where's my cut of the drugs? I know you took it!" She waved the empty jar in front of his face, her arm shaking with barely constrained hysteria.

"Leave him alone, Steph!" Rory snapped, glaring pointedly at her through weary blue eyes. "You don't know what the hell you're talking about, so leave him alone!"

"You!" hissed Steph. "You can shut the hell up! They're your drugs too, so I'm asking you the same question!"

"We don't have anything!" Tristan growled, his face getting angry, red splotches forming along his cheeks. He tried to push Logan away, but Logan was too quick. He quickly reached into Tristan's jacket pockets and produced a large bag filled with heroin.

Fucking pounds of the stuff.

He sent a quick pissed off look at Tristan, who, at this point, was enraged.

"Give it back to me." He hissed in a dangerously low tone, like a ticking time bomb, just waiting to explode.

"Give it back?" Steph shrieked, beyond angry, curbing the strong urge to hit him. "Give it BACK?!? Why the hell should I? It's all mine, bastard! Louise and I are the ones out on the streets, selling our bodies, trying to feed you ungrateful bastard while you're here fucking Rory!" Her pale blue eyes were getting the same look to them as they had gotten when she had seen Paris for the last time. "I'm your sister!" she choked out, trying to control the tears spilling over. "I'm your sister!" she repeated again, before collapsing to the ground in sobs.

Tristan just ignored her. "Logan," He said, his teeth clenched. "I'm giving you one last chance. Give me my stash."

Logan raised his eyebrows and shot him a defiant look. "Or what?" He snapped. "You'll kill me?"

Rory pulled a gun out of the back of her jeans and levelled it at Logan's head. "No." She said, her voice dead calm. "I'll kill you." Her baby blue eyes were deeply pained. She hated what she was doing, she hated it. But she had no choice. Logan was threatening the man she loved. They needed the drugs. Logan didn't.

Or, I think that's what she was thinking.

I paled and remained frozen in horror standing in my spot guarding the door. All I can remember thinking is "If she shoots Logan, she'll shoot me too." My best friend. My sister. My girl. Rory. She was holding a gun levelled at my boyfriend's head, fully prepared to pull the trigger.

God, I hated my life.

Logan stared at the duo stunned before unceremoniously tossing the drugs at Tristan, and raised his hands above his head in defeat. Rory closed her eyes and allowed a few tears to slip down, the gun still pointed at Logan's head.

She hated her life too.

Tristan gently encircled her waist with his arm and kissed her tears away. Then, casting one more undiscernible look at his sobbing sister upon the floor, he pulled Rory inside their bedroom, shutting the door behind them.

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_**Review!!!**_


	15. Death Becomes Her

**ADDICTION**

**Disclaimer –** Gilmore Girls don't belong to me. If I did, Lorelai never would've slept with Chris, let alone married the guy and Rory and Logan wouldn't have broken up for good at the end of the season. But if this Gilmore Girls Telemovie comes to pass, depending on how it goes I may forgive the shows creators for leaving it in the hands of David Rosenthal which ruined it all.

**Summary -** Addiction can be deadly and the road it leads you down can be even deadlier. Trory. Told from Louise's POV.

_**WARNING: Extremely AU!!! A story about drug addiction. Contains Rory/Tristan, Louise/Logan and brief mentions of Steph/Collin and Paris/Finn.**_

**Necessary Background Information** **-** Chris and Lorelai got married when they had Rory, so Rory grew up in Hartford, next door to Louise, and thus they became best friends. Tristan & Steph are step-brother and sister. Paris & Logan are brother and sister. (Honor and Madeline were not used as they did not fit appropriately for this story)

**Reviews – Thank you to****: just hidden, nk-number1actress, kate, Nicole Katherine, Curley-Q, slightly423psychotic :D, trorygirl, bubz22, corruptedchic, starshine34, Meredith McDreamy, veronicalogan, darkvixen06, londonluver, darcy007, max.logan, Jackie & peace love thc. **

**Well this it!! The final chapter! This has been a most enjoyable experience writing my first bit of fan****fiction. I thank you all and I hope you enjoy this chapter and the whole story.**

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**ADDICTION**

_Chapter 14 – Death Becomes Her  
_

The tiny apartment was dead silent the next morning.

And Steph was livid.

She burst through the front door, waking up Logan and myself who were laying upon the lumpy old couch in the dingy living room.

"Oh my God!" She was shrieking loudly. "They caught Tristan's supplier! They have names! They know he bought it!"

"What?!?" Logan said groggily, gently pushing my sleepy body of his, sitting up, now wide awake. He grabbed some cigs from the coffee table, lighting up one and handing it over to me. I inhaled deeply.

"Tristan's supplier got busted!" Steph was shrieking, tearing the entire apartment over, trying to find what she was looking for. "They know where we live now, they know he bought some! We're going to be in lock-down by dinner time! Don't you get it?"

I've never seen Steph so broken. Even after losing Finn and Paris, she was never crazy.

She was crazy now. No … she was now insane.

"Tristan!" she screamed, pounding on the door, an occasional sob escaping her lips while Logan and I tried to figure out what exactly was going on. "Tristan! Open the fucking door! We have to go! NOW!"

No response.

I think she knew, honestly. I think she knew.

She knocked down the door. Put all her force into it and busted open the door, and rushed in. I followed slowly behind her.

They looked so peaceful. Tristan had Rory wrapped securely in his broad arms, and they were buried in each other's greasy hair.

"Tristan!" She cried hysterically, shaking him back and forth. "Get up!"

I leaned down to gently shake Rory awake. She was so cold.

Then I saw the empty bag.

The bag that had been full last night.

All the color drained out of my face.

"Steph!" I said, my voice a stunned and horrified whisper. "The bag."

She saw it and froze. "Oh my god ..." She whispered stunned, sounding like the 16 year old girl I once knew. "OH MY GOD!"

She screamed and tried to push Tristan on his back, as I tried to see Rory's face.

She was the second dead person I had ever touched. Paris was the first.

Her face was all Rory and yet not. So thin and sickly looking. She looked like a skeleton. Salty tears had dried all over her pale face.

Tristan didn't look any better, his entire face contorted in pain.

They had OD'd. Tristan and Rory, they had OD'd.

Steph bent gently down and picked up a note that had been scattered among their things. She tried to read it out loud, but collapsed to the floor in sobs instead. I snatched it out of her hands.

There, in Rory's scrawly handwriting, were written the words "It's better this way. R and T."

Steph folded back the blankets slowly to reveal the rest of their naked intertwined bodies.

Their hands were clasped tightly together.

I turned away unable to stomach the sight and threw up. I got sick. All over the floor.

And then, for the first time, after everything that had gone down, after everything that had happened since the moment Rory and I first stepped into that party that had led us to now, after it all … I let myself sob.

I cried hard and deeply unable to contain it in any longer. I cried for Finn, I cried for Paris, and I cried for the little girl I once knew. Louise Ashley Grant.

But mostly, I cried for my best friend. My Rory. The best friend that I had killed.

"Police! Open up! LAPD!" a loud voice boomed from the hallway vibrating through the tiny apartment.

I froze up, my entire body aching. I turned to find Steph, shaking and sputtering wildly by her dead brother's side, slowly pulling herself to stand up.

In her hand was Rory's gun.

"No!" I shrieked at full volume at her. It was like the slow motion thing again.

I didn't see what happened. Steph pushed me down and moved in what like step-by-step motion into the dingy living room. I heard gun-shots. And then I was arrested.

But I saw Steph's strewn and battered body.

And I saw … Logan's.

Apparently, Steph charged at them and they sprayed her with bullets. Logan just got in the way.

I can't talk about it, anymore. If I talk about it, I'll go crazy. Crazy like Steph. Because I loved Logan. Really. I did. I just can't talk about it.

Don't make me fucking talk about it.

I was young once. I was innocent. I kept telling myself that as they made me ride downtown in the cop car. Within 48 hours, my parents were there.

And then, I was in rehab.

So … you wanted me to talk. I've told you my story. Now … here comes the whole process where you analyze me … tell me that it's not really my fault that they all died. That it was my parents fault for raising me like they did. Or you'll recommend that they give me some anti-depressants or whatever.

Fuck you.

Don't you dare pretend to know what it's like. Don't you dare! You have no idea what it's like to see your best friend laying there, completely dead, probably burning in hell somewhere. If you did, you'd be sobbing. You'd be crying.

But I won't cry.

I won't give life the satisfaction. I only cried once. When Rory Leigh Hayden died. Only once. And that's all I'll ever cry.

Do you have any more pictures of her to show me? Maybe even a nice coroners report … you know. After they cut her open to see what she died of. Her mother, who had become suppressed by society, probably didn't even in know she was dead for a long while after. God, her father who had disappeared probably didn't even know she was dead. She probably sat in the morgue as "Jane Doe." Right next to "John Doe," her lover.

Her soul mate.

So that's the story of the girl in the photograph. That's the story of me. That's the story of the downfall. And that's the story of why I've attempted to kill myself Lord knows how many times.

Doesn't it make sense? I mean … Tristan and Rory … they had love. They had everything. They had each other, and they still decided that they couldn't survive. Imagine me! I have NO one!

Don't you dare give me that look of pity. Cause you see, you're making all these judgments in your head. But in reality, your kids could be on the exact same path I'm on.

Scary thought isn't it Dr. Chris? One of these days you may be looking at a photograph of your dead child.

I just hope you don't see my best friend and her boyfriend lying there. I just hope you don't see me helplessly shaking my dead best friend's lifeless body.

I just hope you don't see my face.

_--- Finis ---_


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